Little Red Companion Bird

Little red companion bird,
Sits on my finger
And speaks to me.
We have all the time in the world.

We have so much in common,
This feathered soul and I.
We see through such similar eyes,
And humans are such a mystery.

Our perspectives start
From the beginning of time.
As the ice rages around us,
We do naught but share ideas.

I like the feeling of his little warm feet
Upon my hand.
I think he's quite dashing
In his cherry red plumage.

His voice lacks judgment.
But he still admits
That perhaps he doesn't want me around
For the rest of eternity.

There may be other places for him.
Other birds he might enjoy.
I'm not all that special, you see,
To my little red companion bird.


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