Blue Bird

I’m a little blue bird
stowed in a jar,
and someone has left me
to tick away at the holes in the lid –
stuck in the limbo between
top shelf and dust filled corners.

I think they were expecting a transition –
pig pink worm to butterfly,
but I’m the loose ligament
of a buzzard’s broken wing
and I’m skip hopping my ugly
back and forth in the mirrored glass.

I need a little less accountability here
and a little more darkness.
Close my eyes.
I’m a little blue bird
and I don’t need the daylight
that brightens the sharp edges of my reflection.

I need my little glass jar,
the holes in my lid,
my ugly little dance,
and the darkness.

© Laura A. Lord, November 2017

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Inspired by the wordle available at Mindlovemiserysmenagerie and the prompt at The Beacon.