Sorrow by Whitney Hill



Sometimes I think I own sorrow
like the man who parades his macaw
up and down the shopping street,
shit on his back, smiling. The bird
is sweet and talkative, but
his wings are clipped. Sorrow kept
too long forgets to leave,
forgets it belongs to everyone and no one,
in a rainforest smashing Brazil nuts
with a hundred other wildly colored beasts.

Whitney Hill
Whitney Roberts Hill has been a blog contributor, columnist, book reviewer, and content editor. Her essays and short fiction have appeared in anthologies and online publications, including The American Book Review. Whitney studied poetry under the late Claudia Emerson at the University of Mary Washington, and is currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing at Queens University of Charlotte, devoting her time to a debut novel. She lives in Richmond, VA.

Featured image: Scarlet Macaws by Nina Hale. CC license.

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