mockingbird cries

and the
mockingbird cried
a disjointed
series of harsh
sonic fingernails
down my chalkboard
soul in the
heavy cold of
a thursday lost
in confusion

i sat
flinching as
the warbled
dissonance passed
in waves over
the silent lot

then i heard
the jangled mating
cry return
three piercing
squelches from
across the street
which set off
a blaring response
from the intrepid
lonely bird

and as i walked
backpack overfilled
with tools
down the broken
sidewalk in the
cold of predawn
i search for
the wayward call
of the mockingbird’s
latent desire

only to find
the hollow boned
lothario’s love
is a central air
unit with one
bad bearing

the siren song
so alluring to my
mockingbird friend
is simply the heat
warming an
no lovelorn
seeking her mate

but try as i
might the mockingbird
would hear none
of my words
calling out to
his true love
he pointedly refused
to admit
did not exist

i didn’t push
the issue
as i know
far too well what
it is to cling
to something that
has already forgotten
i was ever there
so i left him alone
two mockingbirds
calling out
to a love
that wasn’t there


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