As I walked through the early morning some days ago, enjoying the humidity of a rainstorm drying under a blazing sun, robins picked at bloated worms laying in the street. My eyes fixed on one of the younger fellows, who was having trouble scooping an especially large looking worm off the cement.
He had it locked firmly in his beak and flew off just in time to avoid a car approaching from the south, but in his efforts was caught and dragged under the tires of a northbound sedan. I looked away then, as his body quickly stopped resembling it's self, and I felt somehow cursed by seeing it.
I walked a little faster and composed this prayer for bird:
I pray for you ol' Soul of Bird
who had the biggest, juicy worm
who went to eat it, Happy Day!
but hit by car and gone away.
One time I caught this fragile moment before death on film. Only to be haunted by the image of a happy bird and the impending shadow of doom for eternity.
ReplyDeleteUrk! A curse, no doubt about it. wiping the image from my mind was hard enuff with out having a video of it.
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