He, a scarlet punctuation
of familiar exclamation,
needs no formal invitation
for our daily conversation,
though my bowed supplication
to his regal aviations
notes our shared infatuation
that needs no exact translation,
it’s poetic observation
in his wingbeat dedications
and my heartbeat palpitations
for this sacred of relations;
some days: my lone salvation.
Photo and Poem ©2025, Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you’ll love my new book SLEEPING WITH GHOSTS, on sale now!
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