01
Iul
09

A parrot

Oh, what a parrot I turned out to be,
And you – another parrot, with me, all along.

A mirror for my self reflecting words
To help you wind your self projecting mind.

And how I wept for, ‘how I dreamed of
Your wretched feathers made of blue and lime
Sublime under the morning dew
And five feet under – this ol’ stone adorning.

Oh, dear, dear, what a parrot!
How subtly blunt were all my gestures
And utterances of love and hanging-

The wide horizon that’s presenting
A cool glass with a friendly poison!

A crystal tree
In clear water
To make a nest for wonder bird
And stop those dreams that sought her.


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