lament of the love bird

I stood 1000 times under that same tree, eyes skyward
Searching for a single drop of rain
                        or just one brilliant leaf
answer to prayer   he came
fragile, exotic plumage
his call plummeting from the top of a shady elm
a mere cherub
                        wings too short for flight
whistling for water
                            he tottered to the fountains
                            in my desert gardens
    a fearful forest prism
impossible! thinks I
that blushing foreign face, here
                    fluorescent feathers
mocking plains starlings and sparrows.
thirst first
                fear second
I talked to him for hours
                    his jungle songs echoing
until he finally allowed me near enough
and he slipped into my hand
he eats now from tiny paper cups
a prairie parrot’s smorgasbord of
        corn chips, apples, soybeans, and sunflowers
swimming in a margarine tub
could his vividly painted frame be reincarnation of all that which is lost?
if we wait long enough, is some restored?
all those misplaced rings and glasses or
childhood canaries impulsively finding flight through casually opened doors?
vanished friends
clutched, wounded hearts surprised by eternal sleep?
he swings silently on his perch
now, one eye
squinting at the sky.

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