Taking the Wrong Turn (Poem)

A startling

Forceful crash

Against the picture window

A spot with feathers

Smeared on the glass

Distresses me.

I look out

On the deck,

Gasping for breath

With beak open

Stunned

It lies on its side

A little bird

With eyes open

Almost motionless

Except for a twitch

In its legs.

The dog stares at it through

The sliding glass door.

And wants to get to it

For the kill.

The bird lies still.

As if it has gasped

Its last breath

But its eyes open and close

As minutes pass on

Now it jerks convulsively

And manages

To pull itself upright

But stays flat on its belly

Weak.

Looks into the sky

The maple tree

And the bushes close by,

Assesses a path of flight

And then

It flies, as I watch,

To the closest

Maple tree.