“a little bird”
I stare at the shed and notice a bluebird
on that nearby tree,
on that branch halfway up, chirping.
Hey, my coworker says
Hey, I say
Are you distracted, she says
Sorry, I say
And she leaves
And I go back to my bird.
But it is no longer chirping on that branch,
halfway up that tree,
next to the shed.
I see the buildings now,
and I feel the ceramic in my hand.
And I recognize myself,
staring at the building across from mine,
and I see a man staring back at me.
And that man sees a bluebird.
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