A few days ago, the lovely Isobel commented that I’m addicted to photo challenges. She’s right of course, I am, even my own weekly Thursday one. So this week, just for a change there’re no photo inspired haiku, just a little poem.
Totem
Twig legs, and wings collapsed like a fallen angel,
flown too early in this false spring of harsh, March winds.
Breast not red, but orange, flame extinguished now,
the once piercing eyes, blank
issue a question .
Have I the courage to answer?
could I have fed this hungry yearling?
Skeletal, with moulting feathers,
starved, desperate, chilled and lost
with a cracked, fairy porcelain beak
No grassy resting place,
in a well-tended suburban border.
No crow will dine on her bones,
on that flagstone path in need of repair.
Rather, old Mr Jones scooping her precious remains,
into a Waitrose bag and the black wheelie bin.
This, my totem bird will never renew,
but her spirit has found release, a regeneration,
as my raw heart has revealed,
a new compassion for self, rebirth.
On my walk to work a few days ago I saw a dead robin on the path, I did a double take – seeing a dead bird is quite unusual. It made me cry, and I still have the image in my mind, this poem is my response.
Jo isn’t lazy, but she has posted a joyful, spring haiku this Thursday, it definitely cheered me up, thanks honey!
Lucid Gypsy 
Hugs, Gilly! 🙂 Initially I thought ‘yay, got to break with tradition’ but as I read on the sadness enveloped me. I hate seeing dead creatures.
So sad to hear about the lovely little robin Gilly and your beautiful poem says it all. I know the feeling. It’s always sad to see the little beauties of nature like that. 😦
Wishing you a lovely day and ♥ Hugs ♥ to take away the sadness. ❤
Very suitable and great poem, .. while taking daughter to college a few weeks back there was a dead badger on the road,, I felt emotional about it myself..
Heaps of hugs, and ‘yay, you’ve almost broke up’ for Easter! 🙂
That would be very startling indeed. I wonder what happened to the poor bird. Well written sis.
This is lovely, Gilly. And it doesn’t need a picture — it is a picture all by itself — of both the outward and the inward experience.
The poor robin against a harsh spring hadn’t a chance. Vividly portrayed, Gilly. 3 ❤ So sad but great writing.
Such a sad poem, and a lovely tribute to that poor Robin, Gilly. ❤ As you know, I also get very emotional when I see dead creatures. I'm so glad you didn't post a picture; your words were so descriptive and very moving.
Well written Gilly….
Your heartfelt poem is a beautiful tribute honoring the forsaken little bird.
I always love your extended poems. There is a gentle compassionate thoughtful Gilly-voice coming through splendid phrases: (“wings collapsed like a fallen angel”; “cracked fairy porcelain beak”). There is also such noticing of detail – the red breast become orange, the flagstones, the Waitrose bag. A perfect threnody for the death of a special bird.
It’s a really sad poem….and I’m glad there’s no image of the little broken body😞💕
So sad Gilly and it is some thing to ponder. Why do we not see more dead birds? Where do they go to die? Never see many here either, just the very occasional sad bunch of feathers. Hope you are having a happy Easter…