“For Amy” or “The Still Cagebird Sings”

Mantled
It sits on a pedestal
Its breast red and robust
Vibrant
But not heaving

Its eyes are coal
That used to show memory
And response
Now they are opaque
Ending

We watch the still bird
A sound breaks through
Our stiffness
To pepper the room with
Red, Blue, Green, Life

We are confused
Because its beak is a fortress
Unmoving and stolid
But the sound remains
Because the cagebird sees

What we cannot see
The cagebird sees
Beyond its red body
Which will rot
And so it sings

From wherever it is
(Heaven):
“Glory.”
“Glory.”
“Peace.”

The cagebird will sing
Words to us
Until
We can sing them
On our own.

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