When I came out you were gone

and my parrot was perched

on the side porch railing.

 

He had two choices.

 

He could have flown through

August and September,

living on the bounty of

upstate NY until

the cold winds hit.

 

Or he could have perched on that railing

waiting for me to pick him up

biting me the whole time I carried him

back to his cage, gripped in two hands.

 

First the bird

made a decision.

Then me.

The world is

more complicated

than we know.

 

cas (August, 2006)