The Bird On the Hill

The bird on the hill wakes up early in the morning pulling and shaking the awning giving rise to a tempestuous heat that resides in the deep. It is not one of those cool mornings when everything is in perfect harmony, the stock market is going up and down and the clown is running all over the town, while the distilled water that come from the head starts spilling over in the bed and I stood there waiting for the sun to rise. The bird on the hill cannot keep still; it keeps moving from floor to floor knocking on the doors, looking for someone to join the pack. It mixes pepper with sugar and sauté honey and vinegar, while piecing together every single argument and scrubbing the dial pad with sediment brought out from the bag. The corn soup is too thick to share, you have to water it down with beer and the morning bears its punishment. The bird on the hill cannot keep still, it flies from tree to tree increasing the temperature to a hundred degrees. It bellows out loud in the morning chastising men and women of their sins while the sniper waited for the chance to take a shot at it from a distance but the bird on the hill deciphers their tricks and hid in the cockpit. It has a lot of feathers bundle all together and a gate leading to the shore that lies just behind the door and they waited there with great anticipation. The bird on the hill cannot keep still, it flew in the middle of the hearing and broke up the benevolent proceedings and when it was done it gave everyone a massage cream to rub in joints and shoulder. It flew back on top of the hill and starts flying around kicking up a dust storm all over the town, it landed in the middle of the court house stirring up a ferocious storm that sends the jury, the lawyers and judges back to the county to complete the journey. I stood and watch it unfold in front of my face as the situation enters the final phase, horse on tracks, women in frocks and nude men crouching around the back with their hands covering their privacy and a ribbon stretch across their faces. The bird on the hill cannot keep still it is waiting for its partner to come back from a trip.