Dearest speckled feathered thing,
Doe-eyed, tender, tethered string
To hollowed, ceaseless past.
Did she keep you just to hurt you?
Did he leave you just the same?
You barely had a name before you fell
Out of your nest and into the crack
Of the walkway.
Your shoulders weren’t creamy enough,
Though your nose far too slim
For any of the broods
To flock too close.
And how can one be territorial
When she’s never felt at home?
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