Rob at Writer's Island offers this image for inspiration:
I always hated that damn bird.
And he hated me.
But I couldn't let my daughter know.
So, I fed him and cleaned his cage
and cooed and petted
but when we were alone
my mask came off and I'd glare
at him. “Stay right where you are,
buddy, and don't even think
of climbing onto my shoulder.”
He'd turn his head and hiss at me.
Then go back to preening
his snowy feathers, those same feathers
I'd stepped on one morning. The vet
said no bones were broken
but Flip stayed huddled in his cage
for a week giving me the evil eye.
I smiled beneath my mask.