The Finch

She hops closer, chirping

Softly. He sees her, but he does not see.

Turns away.

Feathers rise and wings extend,

A splendid display of adoration.

Futility.

She sings a beautiful song,

Notes of love intermittent with notes

Of longing.

He doesn’t know how he needs her,

But she knows all too well.

Side by side,

He looks forward, she looks

Only at him.

She continues to sing,

He listens but does not hear.

Engaged in a halfway harmony,

His company is the salve to her wounds.

For she knows

That if he were to fly away,

Her sky would crumple.

Her song would fade,

Her wings would slow.

And a heart

Once aglow with thoughts and hopes

Of love,

Would know only of despair.