This Bird
Perched on the rocking chair
With ruffled feathers
Arrogantly searching for
Handouts of seed and bread
Darting its head and looks
Through my window
Brown with flecks of gray amidst
The white like freshly fallen snow
For the sealed package of this world
This seed
Fallen from the mouth of the predator
Lies cracked and broken on a piece
Of naked brick cold as the morning air
Hard against the apparent soft
Brightness covering its skin
This bird
Whose black eyes betray its
Desperate need for satisfaction
Its burning hunger reminds me
How little I have eaten as I sit here
Held by the portrait of
This bird and its rejected seed.
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