The Metal Bird
All birds sing,
even this one whistles music-box chirps
while shaping pins and wire into a nest.
Clucky gears wind spools and springs
and always something whirring.
Sunlight gleams, sharp white,
off his back.
I can only imagine catching him,
holding him in my hands—
tiny heart tick, and quick
rivets and screws like Braille
and cold etched feathers.
but his eyes are different:
black silk glints—twitching to a stop
at every feature of my face.
Valerie Loveland works at a video game company in Austin, Texas. To see more of her poems, visit her website: valerieloveland.com.