There it was, a hurt bird
panting and skittering in circles
on the grass by the berm.
Feeling badly for it, I reached out,
tried to pick it up and help it if I could,
to cradle it and quiet its thrashing about
but it buried its beak in my palm,
a short sharp angry stab
that brought blood spreading across my hand.
I threw it down, said god damn bird!
but immediately felt my heart shrink in horror
and I bent over it, sick over its hurt.
The bird, on its side gasping,
its upward eye a mix of panic and hate,
beheld my gaping face as the last thing
it would ever see, its every
agony saying damn your help and damn your pity,
wishing only to die there by the berm without this hovering intermediary.
_______
for Sunday Muse #223.
Music: "Something" by Julien Baker
Most things want to die alone. Profound and real Shay.
ReplyDeleteA bright and brilliant poem with a message that cannot be ignored! This is beautiful my friend and the sentiments it holds will stay with me for a long long time.
ReplyDeleteThis left me breathless.
ReplyDeletethis is beautiful shay, dire, and real... and now i feel aweful
ReplyDeleteI'm with Phillip. "damn your help and damn your pity" bring us right to the truth of it.
ReplyDeleteThis is so real I can envision the look in its eye. Poor bird. Poor narrator, trying to help what could not be helped. So many hurting creatures in this world. I always enjoy your labels. Love "this is what it feels like when doves cry." Oy, hurts the heart.
ReplyDeletep.s. I have been walking dogs at the local rescue. Smiles.
ReplyDeletePainful and real - a striking poem, Shay.
ReplyDeleteI had an experience like this once. A bird learning to fly hit a glass door and fell to the ground. I found myself cradling it in its final breaths. There is a deep helplessness felt and i cried as he grew silent in my hands. I gave him a proper burial then smudge the area. A bird just learning to fly but never given the opportunity to soar. Sigh wiping a tear…your poem mirrors reality in many ways.
ReplyDeleteWow. And yet doesn't life deal you these painful awkward moments that are good for nothing except maybe for a poignant poem with a tragic twist such as this? Beautifully written and such an excellent analogy for the strife of the human experience, Shay <3
ReplyDeleteThanks for getting it, Sunra. There was no bird, I just made up a scenario to illustrate how we so often go into an unexpected situation with all good intentions, but end up having it go sideways and us feeling badly about it when it's just life being the way it sometimes is, with no neat explanations or better thing we could have done.
DeleteWell, the bad bird should never have attacked your palm. What did she/he expect? Though, digging deeper tells me 'beheld my gaping face as the last thing it would ever see' was a beautiful thing.
ReplyDeleteThis is a two-edged blade, that cuts from both angles, or perhaps a double mirror. I feel I am both the helpless spectator, and the dying here. Much like real life. As always, your words cut sharper than a diamond drill to what is meaningful and important.
ReplyDeleteSo visual... I can see and feel it. We watch what we can't stop and hold its visual like a ghost that never leaves.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful, Shay. I felt so sad reading about the hurt bird, but obviously it needed its own private time in which to die.
ReplyDelete