Poem 473

The kind of ‘Sophie’s choice’ that many days present us with …

( I like the image of the bird’s leg, the rhyme of vet/mat with the inaudible rhyme of bouquet in between … )

Blackbird

Jill spends the morning worrying
   about a blackbird flopping in the gutter
by the bus stop
   one snapped red pretzel of a leg
                                                                      giving way

but if she weighs work against a bird
            and takes it to the vet
she'll only come home to the cat's bouquet
            feathers on the mat

           one of my children has killed
           and one of my children has died

take two aspirin go to bed

            let the wind decide