In July Two-Oh-Oh-Seven,
Late afternoon of the Fifth:
The ghost of Budgie visited.
The sound of ‘thug’ as she landed
Upon the swing of light yellow —
Back and forth, we watched until none.
Transfixed and still, no muscles moved:
Four remaining parakeets looked
Onward in the same direction.
Yeyo from back, Budgsy from right,
Simon and Pimon from the front,
While I looked from five o’clock — right.
Author’s note: A poem about my observation during an afternoon exercise prior to dinner and as to why the parakeets were scattering in their black cage.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Oh, John Jr! That’s longer than I would ever imagine, especially for your conditions! So I shouldn’t rant like this…