No Space To Grieve

A pigeon, newly dead,
on the shoulder of the highway,
slaughtered by a passing car.
The bloody heap, still warm,
sprawled on the pavement
while its mate flutters about.

Wanting to be sure,
to give one farewell caress.
The fierce flow of traffic
chases her away repeatedly,
yet she keeps coming back.

How cruel that she gets
not one moment of peace
alone with her lost mate,
no space to grieve.

My response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt today: Bird

 

9 thoughts on “No Space To Grieve

    1. Sorry I missed your comment, Keith. I’ve been AWOL. 😉
      I know what you mean about feeling bad for days. Last week, in a big hurry, I dashed through a flock of meadowlarks and hit one — and I felt very bad about it. My fault — not the poor bird’s!

      Liked by 1 person

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