Trust Magpie to get in over her head:
A desperate act, wallowed in self-pity,
she rips a veil, yanks the curtain back.
To be fair, it already had a tear. Bird,
incorrigible, cannot resist a dangling thread,
haphazard tugging, a sublime stitch in time.
Once, she unravelled an entire human garment;
stood proud, crowing, as the boot came down.
Right now, she'd welcome a little leather.
Sensing dark clouds, a sudden shift in the weather,
Magpie feels silly and exposed. Would that wind
had discovered her with her bright flight feathers,
instead of naked and shivering,
aching to come in from the cold.