Hopefully the poem will explain itself in the end. Anything more could ruin it. It’s been an interesting few weeks.
I smile at the friend with two yellow canaries
flitting furiously
– as birds tend to do when with joy
back and forth from one finger perch to another
one flies to me
a bond made as quickly as Michigan and Ohio weather changes
the scenes change
people change
this yellow canary –
always given the option of liberation
but the yellow ball of puffy feathers does not see me as its enslaver
but as its friend
as its charge
like I am something to be watched over
so it stays
I wake feeling abandoned when I realize
it was just a dream
thesassyreview 