A Hapless Bird Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

What a foolish bird.
That corner is not an aviary!
That corner is merely a corner.
Dead, with no sides conducive
For savoring petty things.
Look! You are perched atop
A petrified tree,
And you are perched with a taut
Girdled to that leafless tree.
Why a hapless choice, young, brazen fellow?
Squawking is the wind,
You are unshaken
In this restive soil.
Why? The blackbirds were prattling about you.
Your follies, your naiveties.
Why a foolhardy stillness?
Why, on a decrepit tree?
Why, in this blinded portion of the Earth
When the Earth is immense!
The spaces in between the sea and the horizon
Are all yours to abuse with your sturdy wings
Of unmarred flight!
The profusion of the trees, the forests
And the likes of you – ubiquitously waiting!
Why the perverse choice?
Why, in all intents and purposes
Roost on a severely scathed and surly tree?
The choices you make, faint bird.
Hath eyes open?
In this vicissitude, soul shunned!
In this misery, the flowers pry
Upon your reticence.
Answer me,
Answer the inquiries of the Earth
Restively lingering upon your
Sullen beak and dense wings.
This tree,
And you.
Is there a fraternization?
Or just a fumbling choice
Of staying?