On my day off from work
I watched a film.
It was a documentary
about elusive birds in New Guinea.

The male birds are beautiful dancers,
Who desperately groom
and sing,
and dance,
to win the affections of a lady-bird.

You
are my lady-bird
I thought.

And how I danced all these years,
And how I sang all these years,
And how we would talk on the phone all night,
All the years.

And you jilted me once
Unimpressed with my grace.
I could not speak to you after that.

When I dance for you,
The others crane their necks to watch
From there perches, entranced.
But are you, my lady-bird?

But are you my lady-bird?