A Couple Parakeets

Dan Mulhollen

I once had a couple parakeets
(technically, budgies,
but we Americans have never taken to that name).

One was green
the other blue.

The green one
had a fondness for escaping the cage.
An inopportunely opened door
and the bird shot out
into a bleak January night.
A fatal climate miscalculation
to be sure.

The blue one,
less adventurous,
was much longer lived.
(well, by parakeet standards, anyway)

This despite the best efforts of a cat
who sat patiently wondering,
Might this feathered, chirping thing
be tasty snack?

Now, at this time
the cage was about five feet off the floor,
suspended by four wires.

The cat would leap up
moving the cage slightly
Then, unable to open the door,
it just hung there.

Meanwhile the bird,
terrified at first,
grew less impressed.
It would start chattering,
loudly rebuking
the unsuccessful predator,

Finally, the cat would give up
and drop to the floor;
probably thinking
the bird wasn't worth the effort, anyway.

This was the same time
science speculated
that a few species of dinosaurs took flight,
their scales having become feathers,
and as birds,
survived extinction.

I sometimes would stand there
watching that parakeet,
sitting on his perch,
chirping, in seemingly good spirits.
Is this ridiculous blue thing
a dinosaur? I wondered.
Quite likely, of course:
more evidence has been found.
Yet a part of me felt relieved
the bird himself
did not realize his true nature.

Article © Dan Mulhollen. All rights reserved.
Published on 2009-06-22