Stingy, stringy hair stuck back
Slight, stumping figure
Silky, shadowed dress
Sheer skin, blue veins pulsing
She squints
Sucking on the stem
Of the succulent flower
It’s blossomed pink bosom
Draws in her prey
The bird buzzes, flutters, hovers
Unaware of the golden bars
Sip
Sip
Sipping the nectar
SNAP
And just like that
Freedom is barred
Locked
And stowed away through the slats
Of the tiny cage
The witch of a woman cackles
In her shrill, sharp way
And she is thrilled
For he is meant to stay
Prettily poised
Painted in wild colors
With precious little pecks of nectar
And perpetual silence
A regal little decoration
With his natural dignity and regality estranged
All he wanted
Was a sip of nectar
From a pretty pink flower
All she wanted
Was to use her cunning
To capture another living painting
To add to her gallery
For all to admire
Oh, what a favor she is doing us all