Magpies are birds that collect things.
I too, like a magpie, collect things with deranged fever.
The mosses feel it as I pluck them from their cradles of dirt.
Snails feel it as I pluck them from their homes of moist plantlife.
Shiny gems give their facets to me in a sign of respect for they know they can not escape my eye.
Words know it as they accumulate in the back of my mind,
I hear more conversations then I wish to admit.
I collect things unable to be grasped by human hands just as I collect things that could be grasped
in the talons of a bird.
People know it as I am gifted with flowers and sweet worded letters.
I am nothing more than a magpie in human form.
