Black and Blue, Brilliantly

The seasons changed

and the delicate little starling
saw her feathers,
once a soft brown
one by one
replaced with feathers
in shades of blue –
so many shades of blue.

“We all become blue
from time to time.
See our winter feathers,
a perfect bright blue.
But you –
you are too blue.”

The delicate little starling
twisted around to
look at her feathers.

Too blue,
she thought. I am too
blue.
The more she looked, the more
her feathers looked black.
Darker and darker.
I want the bright blue –
if I can’t have the
soft brown
I want the bright blue.

But all she had was a
blue so blue
it was almost black.

She turned her face
and buried her beak in her feathers.
The black feathers covered
her eyes.
Darkness covered her
and she sank into
dark blindness.

Brilliant spots of liquid light
peppered her eyes
and she cautiously lifted
one eye
and peered over her dark wing.

Her feathers still deep dark blue
almost black,
but now dotted with
spots of brilliant light
like a lawn covered in dew.

Head lifted all the way now,
dark wings spread –
she knew her feathers
so blue they were almost black
never would be bright blue.

But they would be black and blue
brilliantly.

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