Birds in the rain
I overheard this morning
One, an albino-breasted Robin lady
The other, the always-humble female Cardinal
A Noticer, that Robin was, and piped right up to ask
“Are you sick, Miss Olive?”
“Heartsick,” Olive sang sadly
Belying her humility, but with head still hung low
“I’ll always believe I was the better bird.”
You are the wrong kind of torque
An un-fun velocity
A ballsy, bitter ride
In an ego-driven coupe
I’d prayed to survive
I am the wanted-to-walk
An emotional dallier
A noticing, freak-of-nature
In a too-long skirt length
You’d failed to ally
LisaRosier.com 