THE WHITE BLACKBIRD

We wished upon a white blackbird because you said we must,

Because it was lucky.

I don’t know what you wished for but I wished for you.

If you tell your wish it never comes true.

 

Is it still alive, that bird?

Nature hates oddities and quickly destroys them.

Or does it still haunt the place where we two saw it,

Fed by a forlorn lover on scraps of what might-have-been.

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