Downed Bird In Repose

Dead bird or if you prefer; Bird dead.

Downed Bird In Repose

A loud squawk heralds a cry for help

Indicates something’s not quite right up there

A white seagull spirals down head first

Wings tucked to the side for safety

The impact signals something else

With a thud that meets the burning sand

The flight plan? Suicide? Friendly fire?

In silence the ocean waves over the expired

Giving blessings as best it can off shore

Clouds bulk up in cumulus nimbus numbers

In slumber the sun keeps social distancing

In gray the bay teaches crabs to dance

To stay back. Don’t walk on land.

Don’t talk to strangers.

Hawks, buzzards, circle the situation

Never far from home are troubles up above

Heaven recovers nature in an hour glass of sand

Mounds of sands are another term for dunes

Smoothed over by the hand of God

Still intact, winds lift a phantom wing

Animated feathers salute. Wave good-bye

From what we can surmise

From the demised

Author's Note

This is a poem about a dead bird, a somewhat dead bird. No. It is dead. It is completely dead. Take my word for it. It is about as dead as it can get.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Visually impactful Earl. This scene played out in slow motion. I am a lover of birds, so their demise always leaves me feeling sad. Even the pesky seagull, has a room in my heart. Hope you are keeping well my friend. Good to see a posting from you today.

Chris

[Earl Schumacker]

Hi Chris, It is always nice to hear from you. No animals, (including birds) were harmed in the creation or production of this item. When I was young I lived by the ocean. I always fed the gulls. When I would go out on the boat fishing I would feed the pelicans and seagulls minnows and clams. Take care. Have a wonderful day, Earl