We'd seen this coming.
Our budgie died today.
He leaves behind
one long-term partner (his mirror),
and talk of a frantic affair with a perch.

Strange thing was:
throughout his life he'd been a loner;
preferred his cage than to venture
through open door,
so rarely touched the hands that fed him;
yet in those last few days
he came to meet us,
flying over to rest on shoulders,
nibble ears and nestle chins
as if to say:

'I knew you were here all along.
I'm going now,
will you miss me?'