Patrick O’Neil
Box C
Waupun, WI 53963



Against the patterned vision I bend
Leaning to watch
A feathery bird come to mock my untidy cage.
Scoot-walking along a windowsill about ten feet away,
making strange vanishing motions with its devilishly rolling eyes,
it brings to mind some impossibly fat inspector from a miniature society:
staring, blinking, then puffing out its chest for a winged good-by.
And I just know it will return to perform the ritual on another day.
So I wait,
sweat forming salt in my curled hand,
for sight of its plumed color.