Dabble - in

Child No More

I muddle in the corner of my quaint cage.
You come over and fill my feeding dish
as you have done for many years.
I blink with rounded eyes of gratitude and
feed on the bittersweet seeds of your concern.

Night comes, and I look up into the white sheet sky,
my smooth lids become heavy and
I nestle my beak into the plush green belly of my dreams.
I fly in between jungle leaves, I eat the wild fruit, and
breathe in the thick air of coconut over tropical ripples of the Amazon.

I wake to the same white chipped painted wall
that greets me every morning.
You come over and stroke my feathers with your warm fingers of security
and I look to the clear panes of opportunity.
A ray of sun blinds me, but I see exactly.

The cleavage of glass bends the sun into ribbons
that kiss the apples on the table
I do not want to hurt you, but I have not been a chick for some time.
I am not sure if I will make it to the exotic Amazon,
but if is better than the white chipped paint of walls.