Magpie Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Pica Pica
One for sorrow, two for mirth,
Three for a funeral, four for a birth

I salute you magpie
You enter marriage for the long haul
The Mensa brainbox of the winged fraternity

You can imitate human speech,
You can grieve, play games,
You can work in teams.
You apportion food to your young,
Fashion tools to trim their meals into fair measure

When one of your own dies,
You group around the body
Your funerals are a wake of squawks and cries.

Pica Pica
From the open kitchen door
I can watch your blue-black feathers
Dropped in from the vacancy of the clouds
An exhalation from the world of birds

You pay no rent, I seek none,
But we share my garden

In our brief time on the Earth
We both have tribulations
Our different heartbeats monitor our days
On the great revolving sphere that is our planet
We are both victims of fate
Caught in our palpitating cages
Pica pica
You are the Erasmus of the birds

One for sorrow, two for joy
Three for a girl, four for a boy
Five for silver, six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told