I could see that it was molting hard
That avian apparition
And I felt the ache of envy rise within me
O to shed my mammalian skin
As had the wingèd visitor its feathers

I’ve always watched for signs and portents
Silly I know
Even pretending to determine
How things will work out one way or another
Not as easy as you might think to deceive oneself

The prismatic edge of a drop of water
Waiting suspended on the invariant spout
The progress of a sore throat
When one side is more inflamed than the other
The transit of the moon behind the clouds

That ceaseless barking
The sound of trucks on the highway
The mottled discoloration of the brickwork
The overheard speech with my bad hearing
The bird’s new life and my old age

So much I already know
It isn’t worse for me I know
Somebody always has it worse
Someone will be sad when I die
I will be sad when somebody dies