The Collector

he watched over them

his collection of robin eggs


blue and gray

sometimes speckled

a dozen eggs filled his heart


he didn’t know if they were fertilized

but it’s not like he cared about all that


every morning he counted the eggs

one, two, three


ten, eleven –

this morning one was missing


his perfect collection ruined by a single chick

he smashed the other eleven

and tossed the chick outside


he watched over their remains

he hated that they were fertilized

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