A cowbird’s liquid note

—we hear it at the same time, ask
about the source. And in the group,

there’s always someone who self-
assuredly knows, it would seem,

the answer to everything from color
to weight and habitat, mating

rituals. And not just birds:
the subject’s not the issue

so much as how it’s offered—
that bit of smugness floating

its oily film beneath the words,
the chance to show. Or show off.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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