my brother & i do not catch the bird

& the bird is very expensive.
is not covered by insurance.
but we want the bird. we need the bird.
saw the bird in the yard
while we watched from our bedrooms.
never intending to be children
my brother & i decided the bird
could make us whole. 
his brown-speckled feathers 
& thumb-sized beak. watching worms
write their poetry on the sidewalk
after a spring rain. i would try
to sleep but all i could see was
the bird. bigger & bigger.
the size of my head & then 
is tall as me. then, i was the bird
i wanted to catch. hang feathers
in the closet like dresses.
to have the bird would mean
nothing else could get away.
we ran so fruitlessly. tripping &
scrambling in the grass. bird with
his wings & trees. i am jealous 
of the bird. to be wanted.
to be chased. i have been captured
too many times to count. in fingers 
& blankets & closets 
& once by a broom.
my memory tells me i have experienced
more pain than i'm supposed to talk about. 
i laugh because i also know 
my brain is a knot of lies. 
picture this: a family of birds 
& you are the human. 
need to microwave meals. need to 
use a telephone. i thought i had
my hand finally wrapped around the bird.
it was just my brother's wrist.
i wished for a second i could
just turn him into a bird. 
afterall, don't we all have a duty
to pretend to be exactly what
our loved ones need? i let go 
& he rubs his wrist. he is not a bird.
the bird is in the branches
so near. a feather falls at my feet.