The cookoo bird is ruthless
it feasts on expectations
it sings when hopes die
string-dancing mockingly

Its house on the wall
out of reach
Like a distant castle
maybe just a painting
yet the freaky shriek of the bird
as real as cannonballs

Who put you there?
Who worked on wood to make your house?
Your door is a hole
To peek out and plan
dramatic exits

Fotios, July 2005