Birdie
by
Mary A. Green
Peach-faced love bird
Little friend
We visit in the morning
At my kitchen table
I spooning shredded wheat
You picking at the millet
In your cage
And though the door is open wide
You no longer venture out
From safety of enclosure
I remember my Birdie of times past
With wings spread
— green-hued iridescence in the sunlight —
Swooping to explore
Perils and pleasures
Of a wider world
Fourteen years
A lifetime now and more
You have depended on me
For your comfort and your joy
Returned them
In measures multiplied
Sleep, sleep my wounded beauty
As I step toward the door
Of my enclosure now
And totter out
Into my own wider world awhile