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A dead cold bird
Gifted silently at a wedding,
Perched atop a slick menu and sly placecard.
Divide and conquer
According to taste.

A dead cold bird was
Absent from the head table.
Indignant, searing silence
From the Mother of the Bride
Ruffling and preening in the wings. 

A dead cold bird is
Silent on my dresser.
Silver tears and wishes
Spoken into the resentful air
Nest awkwardly under her wings.






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This poem was highly commended for Poetry Object 2019

'This poem has layers and I loved the way the object juxtaposed from real to metaphorical, to something else entirely. For me the purpose of poetry is to tell a hundred stories and ask just as many questions in one line and this poet does it beautifully. There’s so much going on and I want to know everything.'
~ Emilie Zoey Baker, Judge, Poetry Object 2019