The room is silent
even the doves do not coo
your little body
lays prone
wings outstretched
this last flight is long
I imagine you crossing
over distant places
to some home
beyond your wire cage
an expanse of trees
filled with yellow-green
copies of you
in a constant chirping
conversation
my hand only warms your edges
and closes your unseeing eyes.
-by the Corby herself
goodnight little Arthur you have been a loyal companion for many years and will be missed
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