April 12, 2018

Snow again?
Ice
Slush
Cold
Wet &
Shivering,
mother sparrow huddled beneath bird feeder awning.
No
tmo
ving
.

Vigilant, I checked again
and then, again.

Released tension, when at
8
she was gone.

There was some interior design show running on the television.
I stared blankly.
I often wonder why I do that.
A great book sat on my bedside table,
the next floor down.

THUMP

As she hit the window,
hollow.

I opened the door
to the harsh wind
and saw a flutter
HARD
into the white-grey night.

Without a thought,
I pushed my way
toward the fence,
where,
at its base,

she pressed her beak into the wood.

With me,  in the warm.

I didn’t go to my bed
until I watched her for

some
time.

little body
inflate
deflate
inflate
deflate.

In morning,
I felt the fear that comes
with the weight of a perfectly
still body.
Weeping for her
meant not weeping for other things.

This was all there was.

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