May 23, 2012

Fledgling by Kristina England





Fatigued, you landed in our backyard
tan-speckled plumage wet, sagging.

Those eyes mere half moons – 
bird of prey now preyed.

No care to offer, we boxed you up, 
drove to the nearest hospital.

Maybe we should have stayed.
Maybe you expected a bit more 

than the sterile smell of metal,
the cool touch of plastic gloves, 

the quick jab of needle, and
how the sun set early that day.





Kristina England resides in Worcester, MA.  Her poetry is forthcoming or published in Gargoyle, Haggard and Halloo, Strong Verse, Tilt-a-Whirl, and other magazines. For more on her poetry, please visit kristinaengland.blogspot.com.  

1 comment:

  1. "Bird of prey now preyed" Clever line. Lovely, touching poem.

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