The Lark

by Timothy E. Bartel

Two unasked ornaments-we receive them
Christmas morning from our father:
A cardinal, crimson for my
Brother, and for me a lark:
Wire feet to perch on branches,
Golden faced, brown-striped, flanked in pink.
I’ve looked for such larks but never
Seen any so colored, so still.
               And now you may know
               That I am a lark,
               But if real or fake
               I can’t say-look at
               My face-is it gold?

*Photo courtesy Sergey Yeliseev.