Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Chickadee poem.


This morning as I walked the garden path
I heard the faint cry of a bird spirit... calling..
though the sound was not audible...

At first I couldn't see him, then I spied the little bird
crouched inside a bird feeder...
(I have NO idea how he got in there...)

Removing the top and pouring him out 
with the seed...
he slipped birth-like into 
my awaiting hand.

Sat for a moment, his heart fluttered on my palm,
blinking as if in disbelief
at what had befallen him.

Shuddering with cold, or so I thought,
I held his tiny body warmly to me...
Whispering to him, its alright, ... its alright...

He folded his wings beneath him as he lay down on his side.
His back arched and stretched, eyes opened wide for 
a long moment...

Then curling fetus like,
he closed his eyes for the last time.

1 comment:

The Quintessential Magpie said...

Oh, how touching, Neinah. I thought he would have flittered away, so I wasn't quite ready for the ending. But at least he died beding cuddled.

I love chickadees. They are one of my favorite birds, and I have them on my everyday Christmas china. Can anything be cuter than a fat little chickadee? I think not!


Sheila :-)