* * *
I heard a knock on the second floor window
Startled, I went to answer
On the deck below the glass lay a tiny bird
Plump dollop of olive paint
And just as still.
An orange crowned warbler (but we were not acquainted then).
Mourning, I reached to cradle him
But he staggered up
A boxer not yet down for the count
Beat his wings
And flew away.
Before, I had never really seen the birds,
They were drifters, floaters
Rainbow detachments from trees and sky.
But this solemn, perfect puff
Wandering olive elf on filament legs and valiant wings
Raised his bruised body, his orange crown
And revealed a ravishing, ravaging world.
* * *
Eileen de la Cruz, an internal medicine physician, is an avid reader and aspiring writer, birder, nature lover and amateur photographer who lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.
featured photo by Eileen de la Cruz