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