During the pandemic
my daughter begged for budgies
I resisted
They are cheerful and bright
She implored. I need them right now!
A caged bird?
I could think of nothing more painful
Than to be a creature with wings
Born with the gift of flight
Left to wither behind wires
One condition, I acquiesced
They have to be able to fly.
We cannot clip their wings
Or keep them locked away
For days on end
And so they came
Chirping and cheerful
We readied a mansion
Filling it with mirrors and bells
colorful sticks shaped like ladders
Perches covered with grit
A swing
Plenty of luxuries
The birds aren’t friendly or tame
They don’t eat from our hands
Or perch on our head when we work
They don’t delight at our arrival
Or repeat back words
They just exist
The cage door is left open most days
They come and go when they choose.
Their favorite perch
Is a stick shaped like a dragon
I found it long ago
And painted it blue
Like the cosmic sky
Placing beaded wire along
The top of the stick
A spine of plates
On the dragon’s back
is where they spend each day.
Pecking off the paint
Above the window
Overlooking the trees of our acre
Chirping and chatting
Resplendent sounds of joy
First there were two
Then four
Then, two again
We learned sadly
That our dog has mastered
The art of the leap.
And the low flying birds
Did not fare well
My daughter wept violently
When a single feather was discovered
Downstairs in the dog's pen.
We placed it on our altar,
A bitter reminder
That it’s better to die free
Than in a cage of safety
