managementia

I look out the window past their heads
there's questions in their eyes,
but all I can see is the dry rushes out there
I keep getting dislocated
out of the meeting
confused about the urgency
of next quarter's grain acquisitions
and gains in the overall share
of nesting territory
Their voices tip upward
bobbing in their
perches
I tilt my head to hear better
my beady black eyes
blinking rapidly in the breeze
from the air conditioning
the carpeted surface
of a cattail head
beneath my feet
One of these things is dissolving now
They ask about the project again
"I am the shah of the redwings! My people are hungry but swift!
We will sing in the next season, ripen our eggs in the sun,
and the great prairie will melt beneath the heat of our skyward dances!"
I twitch my
wings
and sitting upright
picture myself in flight

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Permanent Monday