Arielle Tipa
nestling
my goodness i have a bird in my chest.
my goodness, doctor says. does it hurt?
just a little. a pitter-patter. a knock. oh no i taste feathers. help me. the bird.
i can't, doctor says.
why not?
maybe the bird is pretty. maybe she is a wren or a grouse or a finch. maybe she sings, doctor says.
i feel sick, i say.
it's alright, doctor says. she's coming. she's almost here. she's beautiful.
it hurts, i say. i'm sick.
oh my goodness, doctor says.
oh my goodness, says the bird.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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