friends for a day

taking a side road instead,
i chanced upon a little head,
distressed upon the street.

i parked the car for a better look,
i could never have mistook,
there a bird too weak to tweet.

i scooped him up with instant love,
the tamest bird one could think of,
sat just next to me on the seat.

we hurried home and i cleaned his eye,
it was wounded and he could not fly,
i offered him things to drink and eat.

he sat upon my finger, and let me pet his head,
he started to doze off, so I tucked him into bed.
a modest cage covered with a sheet.

hours later he woke and ate more yet,
and acted more lively than he had since we met,
what a truly splendid young bird to meet!

the next morning he looked at me and i knew,
our time together was done – and away he flew.
the moment was profoundly bitter-sweet.

i sorely missed my new-found friend,
albeit i was glad that he was on the mend,
i wondered if, again, we would ever meet.

hours later i spotted, out of the corner of my eye,
my bird-friend, surely, just flying by!
he had come back again for an evening treat.

he sat on my finger, and ate all he could,
i offered him his cage, and he understood.
he slept for hours, now quite replete.

i too slept, with dreams of him freely flying,
and fancied myself that I had kept him from dying.
alas, it turns out that death we could not cheat.

the next morning I excitedly uncovered his cage,
found only a body, and sadness I could not then gauge.
our friendship was too short and incomplete.

my friend, he flew his final flight,
he had died alone sometime in the night.
life served us both up defeat.

~rest in peace my friend.

my bird friend


i held it in my hands,
an idea too far-fetched,
i remember staring at it.

of course it was beautiful,
it was an impossibility,
that i held close to my heart.

until it vanished, suddenly,
without so much as a warning,
i truly ought to have cried.

instead, i turned away,
an irresponsible keeper,
of my own ludicrous ideas.

i’ve not yet found another,
nor clearly recalled,
my mislaid vision.

i shall keep looking,
always for the beautiful,
struggling for the unobtainable.

for whatever reason i am,
peddler of the impossible,
cherisher of the absurd.

that old lady

her marbled legs blended well
with the faded ink upon her arms

the cigarette wobbled all the while
she often cackled about her youth

but her eyes betrayed her humor
for sincere regrets and shattered hope

she often slurred too much
to talk about abandoned dreams

so I would listen to her fairy-tales
wondering how much she believed

eventually she’d forget I was there
become lost in mummbles to herself

I tried to smile, but it was hard
Inevitably, I’d excuse myself…

she kept on talking, smoking, drinking
until, at last, she passed away

gone, to wherever a godless woman goes
I missed her then, that old lady… grandma