Magpie

Small and hidden,
He hops out from beneath the shadows of the tree that hang over him, dauntingly.
They seem unfamiliar to me but present themselves as friends I do not recognize.
I do not know him either,
but as I raise a pair of crinkled eyes,
I see him.

I have always known being on your own as meaning sorrow.
I have been living that.
Two await for me at home and I can hear their lonesome calls in the echo of mine.
He too is alone. He is meant to be sorrow.

But when I look at him, in the molten sun,
he shimmers.
Blues, greens, purples, you name it.
I realize that he looks like two birds in one.
Black one minute,
A symphony of colours the next.

He is on his own, but he is not alone.

I was meant to see him and him alone.
We do not even speak the same language,
Nor do I know if he’s a girl or a boy,
But I know that when he looks at me,
He says:

“It’s one for joy”