PiePie The Magpie Came To Visit

I met a magpie yesterday. He didn’t tell his name.

He came to visit out the blue. He liked it, so he stayed

About an hour. He perched and preened his plumage clean and bright;

He did a mean impression of a camera to our delight;

He perched on Suzy’s shoulder. Oh, she laughed in sheer joy

And the magpie laughed along. He was a funny boy.

(Or maybe girl, I couldn’t tell. It’s not my expertise.)

He even cleaned his beak upon her hoodie’s soft-washed sleeves.

We phoned up all the folks we thought could help us with advice.

Was he someone’s missing pet? Hmm. Well, nobody recognised

The magpie up and down our street. He wasn’t someone’s bird

But maybe as a little chick he’d been hand-reared, we heard.

Regardless, Mr. Magpie came and brightened everything.

We gave him water and some corn, he gave us smiles and grins.

The cats were jealous: Rusty came and tried to chase him off

But magpie just flew up and up and cat-food he was not.

My friend said maybe Magpie had been sent to us to say,

“All will be well, life’s not all bad, that gloom is not the way

To be. And that to be is really all that ever matters;

The rest’s just details, fripperies, a mess of background chatter;

Time is short, black nights are long, depending how you feel;

But living in the moment is the way to make things real

And solid. Like a conversation with a magpie does.”

He didn’t say his name. True. But I sure knew who he was.