Walking home
I saw a baby bird at my feet
Never seeing
Dead.
Without touching
I knew instinctively how he would feel.
I saw a baby bird at my feet
Never seeing
Dead.
Without touching
I knew instinctively how he would feel.
No feathers
Fetus.
Wondering time
I thought how long his corpse would stay
Nearing decay
Perish.
Waiting there
I heard a grackle scream in an evergreen
No mother
Mourns.
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