Animal Writes
20 February 2000 Issue
The Emerald Green Bird

by [email protected] (Patricia Rogers)

I tried again today.

I tried so hard.

To make it right.

But even as I tried,

the bird died.

The little bird you left behind,

without a thought,


You were all she had.

But she was only a bit of color,

a splash of emerald green,

to set off the reading nook

in your trendy loft

on your upward climb.

I hear you've done your new flat

in uptown silver and grey.

Lots of glass and steel.

Not the sort of place

for a little emerald bird.

She knew you weren't coming back for her.

She stopped singing

a week before she died.

The old man at the cleaners

said he saw you last Friday.

Said you came to pick up your suit;

Said you had two afghan dogs;

on a double lead.

Well behaved, he said;

a matched set.

"Very uptown," he added

as I turned to leave.

I didn't have to ask what color.

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