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by Jack Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1370476
read it read it read it read it read it read it read it read it read it read it
The witless bird
Comes to collect
Small fish, he turns
And bends his neck.

I sit and watch
This painful sight.
I tried to save
These fish last night.

I picked them up
Each one by one
And threw them back
Until the sun

Called back the birds,
Tide’s mordant slaves.
They killed the fish
I couldn’t save.
© Copyright 2008 Jack (lupin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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