Bauble Thief Poem by Crystal Korzinsky Chambers

I witnessed a mockingbird one morning,
Warming his cockles in my window's sill,
And when I called his attention
He turned as to fly away,
(Used to being on the run)
He sat a moment more.
I moved no muscle and took barely a breath
As he looked back over his shoulder
To see what I had done.

'Why aren't you chasing me? ' he asked.
Being chased had been his plan of fun.
'My feathers are richly soaking up your sun.
I will steal every shiny bauble in your box
and when there is none
I will fly away to another window
and begin my game again.'

'Precisely, ' I told the bird whos'
Raven wings were making shadows
As he stole my morning sun.
'With your want to steal, and
take what is blessed to some, you
do so for the attention, not for the fun.
So off to your hovel of baubles,
you may come and go, and
for each meeting I will leave
a bread crumb for your trouble.'

'But, no gems, no treasure, no chasing
will I give to such a self doting bird.
My window is free to enter
for the morning sun. The sill is yet
large enough for me, and birds
who talk and run.'

Off he went, never seen again;
Once again my sunshine flows liberally
through the mockingbird's vacant pious pirch.