Take You There

There is another book,
quite forgotten now,
or was it a robin?
I was hanging there 
when it hit the window.
Appreciate that particular
detail, the smudge
and fluff on the pane.
Too bad if the action
moves out of the visual
field. The limp bird
can’t tell you, just
take you there.
You shall, neither of you,
have anything of mine,
the red breast said, 
dizzy with haranguing
heart and the whald’s
trivialitah. Some thinkers,
large and small, ignore 
these interruptions,
all a trick, these hoops
and games, to make
you quit, an escape valve,
a low place to sit.