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.
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