Bird

Bird

I awake to a bright and eager
Sunday morning and
open a tin of tuna.The
cats scamper at it's sound
and tails erect ,beg the
door open.

On the patio lay a tiny scrap
of shivering life,oblivious
to it's plight as
it huddles in feathered misery
next to the Tesco
growbag.

I collect and cradle this child
in my giant alien hands
and feel it's fear
course through my body.
Misguidedly, I try to calm
it with a clumsy finger.

The cats lope eagerly as
I make dew feet in the
pristine lawn and under
  the stony gaze of a garden gnome
  I entrust this innocent life to
  a high yew tree.

All day Mother screeches
alarm, and amongst the
noise and safe cacophony
all is well. But red evening
  brings purring cats and a
  garden of loud silence.