Dead Bird

Dead Bird



A pigeon, its neck snapped,
body stiff with death and
hollow bones lay arranged
like flowers on an altar.

An afternoon breeze blows,
oblivious to the plight
of Dead Bird as it lifts
a limp wing with the
tenderness of a Nightingale
attending her fallen soldiers.

It will not fly away; it is gone.

Yet the earth urges it to
live and mimics a life
by blowing feathers in
the wind.