“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.