He <br />[Or 'she' – how does one tell? ] <br />Was some: <br />2000 €, <br />10,000 km, <br />200 vertical feet, <br />20 °C, <br />40% humidity <br />Infinitely too much humanity <br />And a continent and a country <br />Away from the company <br />Of its own kind: <br />Of home. <br />Yet, <br />So desperate for even caged consolation <br />He inclined his head, <br />Offering his nape, <br />As if before the Sultan: <br />To strike or to stroke <br />Inviting contact, <br />Any contact: <br />Cruel comfort or sweet release <br />From a steel-bound existence <br />Prey to a gravity <br />He once could negate at a thought, <br />His former unchained reality <br />Now sadly relegated to fleeting dreams <br />Be-deviled and broken <br />By 24-hour daylight security. <br /> <br />Alone in abject slavery, <br />Yet still he craved contact with me. <br />Me: representative of all who would not see him free. <br />We don't deserve animals, do we? <br /> <br />[Lament for the lot of the Gabon Grey Parrot in a cage in the Botannic Garden Centre]<br /><br />Tony Jolley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cruel-comfort/
