The Whistle

A parrot lived
near the center
of a crowded market.

Every day,
people stopped beside it.

They laughed
when it copied their voices.

Whenever someone spoke,
the parrot repeated it.

Loud voices.
Sharp voices.
Angry ones.
Happy ones.

The market was never quiet.

The parrot spoke all day.

One winter,
the market closed
for many weeks.

The streets emptied.

The cages were covered
at night.

Most days,
the parrot heard
only wind
through the stalls.

At first,
it waited for
voices and laughs.

Then one morning,
the parrot began
to whistle softly
to itself.

The sound moved lightly
through the empty market.

No one answered.
No one laughed.

Still,
the parrot kept whistling.

For the first time,
the sound felt natural.

Even without
the applause.