and the
mockingbird cried
a disjointed
series of harsh
squeaks
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
office
no lovelorn
mockingbirdess
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