Poem: Yellow Bird


If a bird landed on my shoulder, what color would it be?  And what would he do? 
It might defecate on my new white crispy shirt from my favorite brand name store. 
It could stand on one foot attached to a spindly leg, then the other as if life were only a game to him.
But when he appeared, he did neither.
Instead, took one glance at my eye wear resting ever so peacefully on my nose
And then tried to lift the frames off my ears, hopping from one side to the next.
This continued much to my mixture of delight and slight irritation until I was consumed with irritation alone. 
I made limited contact with his frenetic body after a few misses. 
I concluded with a purposeful swat to his body. 
Quite stunned by what I had done, he collected himself and flew away. 
I blurted rather loudly, “good riddance,” and went along my intended path.
But when I turned my head to make sure he was gone, he was about twenty five feet away
And flying towards me with his wings flapping in a state of what appeared to be sheer panic or rage. 
Maybe, this yellow bird has something to tell me. 
“That can’t be,” I said with emphasis.   Birds can’t talk.  Sure, they can chirp.  But talk to a human being? 
Absolutely not!
I turned back, hoping I would only see a dot in the sky,
With thoughts of what my body must do and my mind should release from the past week. 
It was no such luck because he was still there, only closer.
And as I continued onto the next physical destination,
My mind clearly was not in sync with the next task before me.  
I was flustered from head to toe and beyond.
If only there were repeats in one’s lifetime.
If another bird landed on my shoulder, would the color be different? 
Would he be a she this time? 
Would she peck my eye out? 
Females tend to be more aggressive than males or what I noticed as of late. 
Would she take something away?  And not return it back? 
Would she return it to me in a million broken pieces? 
Would she succeed?
The bird, at hand, must be paid attention to instead of wondering about hypotheticals. 
The future may hold many possibilities but not currently. 
I straightened up as much as my crippled back allowed, and
Prepared for another duel with this stinking yellow bird.


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