the birds have waited till spring to feather their nests 

​

my blood boils in the longer 

heated days of spring 

barely budding leaves do little 

little to muffle the screeches 

of choose me ditch him she's mine 

and i bob, weave, twist my 

head around the stress of it 

it's here! the one and only spring of it 

after a winter of simmering 

guarding my plumage only to 

rip it open, bare 

my breast in excruciation 

waiting for you to bow 

weave, flip a wing 

shriek along this branch toward 

an end we have both 

danced around 

i fan my tail, nod 

you nod, trill 

i am the one you are the  

one we will be the one