Coronation of Kingbirds

All morning the Cassin’s Kingbird
Mistook our bathroom window for sky.

Yellow belly black beak
Black beak yellow belly

Could not crack the why
Of that blue shell.

Upon each failure he’d perch
A foot away, consider the shining wall

With blinking black eyes,
The softest crown of grey.

He couldn’t see the concern
Of black and white

Lovers on the other side, nor hear
Our not unkind laughter

At his error—we who had
Already been bruised and crowned,

Having found what he sought
Behind the glass.


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