She watches through bars no bird
Ever heard of until a Man
Invented one, and then another
And another, and lined them up in a row.
“These are to look through,” he said.
Soft feathers, plucked but not preened.
Bright wings with nowhere
To fly.
She closes her eyes. Just another
Pet shopper passing her by,
Out looking for
Something better.
Aratinga Canicularis image from Wikimedia Commons
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