Polly parrot learns to opens doors.

Talking birds of attitude at altitude 

offer you candy on a plate 

full of fortuitous shooting stars 

bound by the invisible lines 

that only your eyes can see 

join the dots evenly

when clouds hide from sight 

the silver fins circle the night 

moon in the seacoast garden.

old memories tied up in string quartets

of lines played out to historical satire 

of inescapability inaccuracies 

Still believing that bees can fly 

from the west to feast on tea gardens 

pouring honeysuckle symphonys.