Stuck

Here’s mys submission to this week’s Big Tent Poetry prompt about being stuck.

Stuck

The thunk, thunk
reaches me
before the sight
of the bird, in full flight
hurtles into view.

Thunk.

Me and the bird.

Them on the other side of the window
caught by the promise
of their own reflection.

Me, on the inside
wondering what it feels like
to be on the other side.

Thunk.

The bird and I lurch for freedom at the same time
and slide together:

them to the garden chair
for another attempt
to woo themselves

me to the floor
from where I can just
catch a glimpse of sky.

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