t.dicora.to

full head of hair and a whole lot to share

as the ox passed between larkspur and lily, when ruby would not glow

I found a songbird yesterday,
when the sun was nearly set.

She was sitting alone on the asphalt,
grateful, I imagine, in the least
that it lay in shade.

She labored with each breath
her body sunken into itself
and sinking deeper, approaching after.

Where she had been on her path
I wouldn't know.
I couldn't know her
Was she fledgling or
had she traveled farther?

I knew only that

she would not sing and that she would not fly,
and that she would hardly react as I approached.

Even after I sped into my home
filled a lid from a pill bottle
with a few drops of water and
careful not to spill, I brought to her

how her little brittle head would move
only slightly,
to point a tired eye
toward the offering
or toward me
unsure as well, I'm sure, in either's purpose.

how she took no sip and
still hardly moved and
she shut her eyes yet slower
in the moment, in her time
and in mine, that I knew her.


It was already late on a Sunday and
I went inside and found a box to keep her in
maybe to keep her
from being trampled or
run over or torn apart and
tortured by that tomcat next door.

So I pushed her gently into the box
Though it disturbed her,
little songbird in a cage
I think, to keep her
to make her moment mine
and in return, I gave her a small cloth
to nestle all alone through the night.

when morning came
and opened the box
to catch the sunlight
in her cage, there she lay
still and on her side.
where I left her alone and she left
in a box. from my mess
from my nest
until the warmth left her breast

through that night
she saw cardboard
and then death



She's buried in the garden,
with cactus flowers that I'd plucked.
Stolen, just before I trampled over them
right where I placed them, lacking care
and likewise, without grace
now in that grave lay another gift
that I disturbed.

Five years to the day.

Since then, an emptiness. Indescribable, but like a void in my chest. I still don’t really know how to live without you.

Luckily, I still believe in the love you taught me. Proof of myself, from proof of you.

Proof enough to continue.

t

“all I feel from her is love”

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