The Oriole

You were home for lunch.
We were eating in the
kitchen nook, where we
spotted an oriole,
and four doves.
You encouraged me to
grab a photo
with the camera.
I tried, albeit halfheartedly,
to capture the perfect shot.
The bird kept flying away
at my mere motions
behind the glass.
After awhile,
I quit for a time.
You said,
it was because
I didn’t heed Berryman’s
that I always had to be sure
of the outcome,
that what I did was right,
perfect in conclusion.