Swift Parrot Soliloquy

My beak and feathered cheeks as rare 

a rebel red, a banner flagging 

the final effort– 

no surrender. 

Red set, deadset, in green 

that’s even evolutionary, cannot help itself

more verdant than any eucalypt, 

more contagiously intense than any green 

grown anywhere else. In all my beauty 

and fleet-winged disobedience, I am 

a Defiance.

When I am gone, you will realise, too late,

that dead plumage does not shine as bright.