I watched a bird die today.

Nothing I could do.
THWOCK!
Into a deceptive reflection,
then prone on the porch,
wings extended --
dying in a flutter,
a flutter,
a flutter,
then stillness.

She weighed nothing,
and, dead, felt nothing,
as I cupped her in my hands.
Did her eyes open just then?
Is she moving?
Could it be...?
But no.
Flight aborted, neck broken.

Stillness.

Well, then.

A nest of soft, rain-soaked soil.
A blanket of pine needles.
And it is done.

I watched a bird die today.
Nothing I could do.
Nothing.