No Room Free Under the Iris

(For Barb’s Bird)

We were all, once, on the right course:

famineless,

and,

so being,

illumed.

We came with a lot for a lot more of some.

Like a bird that flies only on Saturdays,

pitched from the roof,

over to the diner;

it has already been done.

But it has never looked so free

in the room

under the iris.