…Isn’t mine…isn’t her
Pecked, scattered into shreds
Her yellow beak
…orange …yellow
Blended with ripe mangoes
Myna, three birds on count
… three…joy
Volumes spoken, unintended
Television blared in the background
…Isn’t mine…isn’t her.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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