An Insignificant Experience with Birds  
  
            Even young, I was unable
            to fit my finger through the bars.
            He sat there eyeing my every effort
            to reach in and offer a nibble of thumb
            or pinkie, but he never moved towards me,
            only perched there quietly
            morning after morning
            until I went away to school
            in my yellow slicker
            or brown jacket,
            weighed down with wondering
            why this bird fascinated me,
            a parakeet with only a cage to his name.
            Was he was not suitable
            for flying at large?
            Was his soul too small
            for the hungry world to accept?

            So when my mother told me
            to quit picking at my food like a bird,
            to consider all those children in China,
            I left the table and went to his cage,
            peered through steel ribs to read the paper
            to see how many went hungry that day.


            Larry Fontenot  (Click for bio.)

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