There must be something wrong with this mirror, I plead,

For my reflection appears changed, tinted. 

What did you do to me?

A heuristic change I feel and see.

The curves look rearranged, shifted.

There must be something wrong with this mirror, I plead.

Well, why not? This little feeder caters

only to the droves of four-inchers who

can sit-and-flit as if the perches were hot

landing pads. So, if this has what she needs,

then improv-ing a hovering hummer’s

an appropriate way to hope. True, her

if i lose my memory one day

show me the books i love and let me

let me love them all over again

let me lie in my mother’s arms

and feel like a kid and be forgiven,

let me once more get to know my friends