Death of a Bird

A bird is born
Squints at first light
From its nest it is torn
Falls in premature flight
Hope of life is forlorn
Passersby scurry at sight
The bird’s death, no one will mourn
Another bird will be born tonight

-

I wrote this in memoriam of a little baby bird that I saw wobbling around on the sidewalk one day. It had fallen out of the tree and I did not do anything to save it from its deadly situation. The next day I walked along that same sidewalk only to find the poor wretch dead on the concrete. I swore that from then on I would never be a passerby scurrying at sight.