Not ten minutes after we hear the shot (Copper)
lingering in our throats,
the Dona's blonde blue-eyed boy clomps in, birds
slung over his shoulder.
Pleased with her son’s triumph, she
raises the wounded birds to the light (Golden)
then splatters them (Aluminum)
against the wall.
(Green Azure Indigo)
feathers splayed (White)
“MMMM,” she murmurs with relish. Her favorite.
“How lucky you are he hunts today.”
Teca and I bow our heads over parrot stew.
The Dona grabs Teca’s forearm, pinches
her hard (Onyx) skin.
“Eu aaaaaaaamo iste cor," she cooes.
I love this (Color).