The Bird

Take it, hold it, squeeze it.
This beautiful bird is rare,
extinct is as exotic does.
The smooth feathers so soft
as to be almost greasy
to the touch.
And touch you may,
Stroke softly and worship.
Look you may,
with eyes along every inch
of colourful plumage to tailtip.
This beautiful bird is yours
Take it, hold it, squeeze it
Gently and this moment
Shall not slip through your palms
Where lines cross like
unfinished Polish motorways
Hoping one day to meet.