You lost your wonder
thinking of the closed side show
within your body,

a silent fun house
of reluctant superheroes
you can’t call on to save you any more.

It’s hard living in that bed. It’s hard to see
the empty feeder outside the window,
the subsequent absence of birds.

Before this, you might have asked
whether someone was slacking and if
someone could get it handled. 

Now you don’t even ask where the birds are.
You stay silent listening for wings and capes flying
to your rescue, but nothing’s coming, so you just sit.