Rara Avis

She’s robin egg happy,
with a secret
that sits on her lips
pigeon-toed.

At a coffee shop,
called BirdFeed
Gnawing her straw
bored,

like pulling a worm
for no reason.
Her look calls
to me.

I offer fingertips
and wit.
Her plumage brightens
and we sing.

The duet lasts
till midnight
Then we fly off
in a taxi.

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