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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