out of the black and brown, cowbird burst into my awareness.
staring at me through my windows,
seeming to follow me
as i walked room to room.
(because this life is all about me, isn’t it?)
a songbird–i was pleased to discover–
his delightful tweetly-tweet-twee
captured my heart daily, for weeks.
at first i thought it was me he was after
slightly embarrassed (to myself), i came to realize
it was not me but it was he
–his own magestic reflection on the windowpane–
he was at the center of his obsession.
he’d primp, preen and puff
begging, calling after himself, hour after tireless hour.
i talked to cowbird, i tried to set him straight
i told him if he didn’t get over his gorgeous regal self
he’d never meet his mate.
if he didn’t turn his attention away from his own beauty
he would surely meet ill fate.
cowbird didn’t listen.
spring sprung on.
the gay bird became Narcissus.
watching and listening to him,
thinking and feeling for him,
mimi–i named him–sacrificed his spring
all the while teaching me-me how not to fly.
❤ becky jaine ❤