I picked up a small antique bird
in a musty old shop
a bit of twine tied ‘round its leg
I held it for a moment or two
then set it down, walked away slow
in search of the next pretty thing
Did I hear it call out to me as I turned?
I couldn’t really be sure
but I picked it up once more
pressed it close to my ear
and this is the story I heard
I’ve been sitting here
Just waiting for you
For many long years and a day
If you take me home
I have secrets to share
There’s so much that I’ve seen in this world
Do you know where I’ve been?
Do you know who’s owned me?
I bet that you’re dying to know
So I paid for that bird
that’s now perched on my shelf
but it’s never again uttered a word
(Day 8: 1 subject 30 ways #personificationpoem)