The Parrots
Already the parrots are losing their magic
flying in their wooden way for you alone.
You used to smack them with your fists and set them clicking.
Now you grab and won’t let go.
Sometimes I find you lying there
staring at the spaces between bright beak and speckled wing
and though it’s crazy
already I am grieving that you’ll leave me.
Page(s) 88
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