NaPoWriMo #26 - Possession

Possession

I woke to the news that you’d given your parrot
to the gas-man. The only impact left to me
is other people’s reaction to the news.

I remember possessions like water to you
– so easy to give away. A room
with piles of alphabetised CDs and a clean, fresh bed

hardly slept in. False wings up high in the corner.
There is no surprise left in your disappearance
and even the parrot, so I’ve heard lately, has unlearnt your name.