James Thomas Hazard
The wild parrots are in town
A screeching storm of green birds
Wheeling in a wide arc
Past the steeple and then around
Trees that fan across the park
It is a cacophony of rusty bells
Squeaking wheels on a tin roof
An avian brotherhood of disunity
Growing madder and more joyous as it swells
Into chaos with flagrant impunity
And then, just like that, they are gone
And there is peace and quiet along the tree
lined streets,
Order in the symmetry of unwavering lines.
Everything is normal. Nothing is wrong
So we think
But there are other minds