She doesn't feed seagulls poison,
or sic predators on pigeons, but
she hates birds.
Always has?
Who knows! She does now,
that's for sure. Even those
little cheeper peepers hopping,
finches or sparrows, even the hovering
hummingbirds. She hates the musical
riot of calls chiming in and under
and around each other,
outside her window, every morning
she wakes dreaming of
murdered birds.
She hates them.
The bald eagle, soaring
majestically, the extinct dodo
too, comes in for its belated share. Doesn't
she know? Birds are only dinosaurs
that got scared of meteors
and had to hide
under feathers.
To survive, we all have to figure out
how to fly. And some of us, eventually,
find other livings,
lose our wings, and look
hatefully up
at the sky.
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