Dodo San

Nestled in a columbarium, plumage strewn, avian virus, contagious. I thought feathered friends bird brained, chickened out when I saw a yellow canary in a cage walk a man by. They thought me extinct and now think me a magic magpie. A peacock strutted head high. A gullible jay glanced my way, friendly. No, surely not a dodo, thought he. Maybe a crestfallen cock, a sitting duck. Pigeons came to roost in my cote, and bulbuls in love. I rousted, they scattered. A sparrow, a blackbird, and a crow, eyed each other and on the ground the half-eaten chicken wing.