Almost Silenced

"Chickamunga" the bird said
flicking his needle point
tongue my way.
"Sorry, I don't speak in tongues
let alone flapping, feathered
gossip." The conjugated verb
of a dancing, dangling thought
tangled with a presposition
that sounded like a cough
after the awkward silence.
And all I could sing
was "Ahhh." The "men"
ran off like a wounded battle
hym, the tufts of ruffled
mane and feathers flying like
dandyline fluff
on a puff of wind. "Look,
there's a reedy shadow
creeping among the river rocks."

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