Bernie wakes up like he’s late for something important. Blueboy’s already plotting mischief, Head tilted, eyes bright, Like he invented the pure joy of destroying a toy. They chatter like two radios picking up wild static A debate about seeds? A scandal involving millet? It sounds urgent. Suddenly yellow and blue streak the living room, Bank right into the kitchen, loop the impossible space Tiny feathered acrobats Bernie leads (or thinks he does), Blueboy agrees (or pretends he does), they write their names in the air never the same twice. They land like nothing happened. Innocent. Composed. Little statues of calm atop their open cage Planning their next adventure. The house is their sky, And the day is their playground, And best friends, as it turns out, Are two parakeets flying together.