Obituary

You never learned to sit on my finger

Or call my name

Or say hello

But you sang to me

Every morning, greeting me

As I tended to your needs.

During our dinner, you sat where you

Could spy on me,

Blinking your black-rimmed eyes

And flapping your wings.

You loved to fly

So when I cleaned your cage

You zipped out,

Flew high as you could

And from that perch,

Watched every move I made.

When  I finished, leaving behind

A millet spray as treat,

You were often the first to arrive.

You never let me touch you until this morning

When I respectfully removed

Your body.

I know that I took

Excellent care of you,

And that you were getting old

For a love bird,

But even so, your death was a shock.

I will miss you, Rolo.

 

 

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