You sound a little like that bird

Calling and crying from the corner

The beauty of the day is obscured

In the middle of joy, a mourner

Sitting on top of the STOP sign

Fluttering about

The whole neighborhood hears you whine

You say your legs are too thin

Only the rich and powerful win

Your nest is empty

This morning’s food is never plenty

Enjoyment is pain

Flying, mundane

Everything costs too much

Life is just a sucker punch

Whining, whining, whining on

The neighbors yawn

A lovely little lady bird came and told you – “come, look here,”

She flew to the car and perched in its mirror

“Look. Can’t you see?”

You hit your head on the mirror a million times

Before she said, “The problem is not with the car or the mirror”

But he couldn’t hear her

He flew into that mirror endlessly

All he could notice was the periphery

I am the problem

I am him – the whining wren

The dilemma is not with the world, but me