Prey

Encountering evisceration of a hummingbird
(its guts a ruby hue, its head apart),
in less than half a second, half a step, the thought occurred:
the neighbor’s cat had stopped a tiny heart.

And then I spied that feline beast of ebony and black –
he crouched and peered beneath an SUV,
and almost looked ashamed (it might have been a cheap attack –
too easy to build notoriety).

I nudged the parts to join some plants that acted like a berth
(the severed head was light as lint, and slow).
A grave seemed inappropriate: recycle in the earth
could help a scavenger or blossom grow.

I mourned a bit and questioned if the corpse should be interred,
until my yard received, alive, another hummingbird.

This entry was posted in Critters, Home, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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