The Aviary

Small bird, don’t die and leave me all alone,
with only the world that I wish I’d not known,
to stare into the cage where all your life you’d flown.
To me you were more than just skin and bone.

All the wild things that I loved died,
they couldn’t bear being caged up inside
There’s no longer use in trying to hide,
because the wolves that you fear are now waiting outside.

***

When I was little I almost got a robin to eat from my hand. He’d appear out of nowhere while I was dancing around the garden and I used to sing songs quietly to him to try and encourage him down from the cherry tree, but I think he preferred the other bird’s singing to mine.
    A few times I’ve sat myself down and tried to make myself remember everything happy, but I don’t know what I’ve done with all my memories. It’s like I’ve put them in a box labelled “empty” and hidden them somewhere secret, and only when I’m not thinking about it one of them finds its way back to me. Anyway, I remembered the robin with the big obsidian eyes just today. He doesn’t come to our garden anymore, and neither do the starlings. We have plenty of ratty pigeons though…
    Today I’ve started on some paintings I plan to show to The Moontree Gallery crew when I start my work experience in summer. Have also been planning some photo-shoots, one of which includes a pair of extravagant lampshades, which I’ve been looking high and low for since the start of the holidays, but I haven’t yet found ‘the one’s’ yet...

-Katie x