A Poem

The exotic bird
Bright with a show of
lime, fuchsia, azure
shivers at the feeder.
He's escaped from
the cage
and his old one
who clucks and pats
and coos, in his warm
home of
seed plenty, water
fresh, place clean.

He's chilled at the feeder
with the blowing and sharpness
of a wind that will
not send him back to
his old one,
nor comfort her.

Chickadees and
sparrows bow to him,
pecking, bobbing;
not knowing, ever,
what is cage;
not knowing, ever,
what is lost.