-for Jim Harrison
The nest was mud-wedged
into the crotch of the tree
and for weeks my family
watched the process
standing on tippy toes
peering from the edge
of our deck
We watched as beaks opened
to receive food from mama bird
and we saw them grow
crowded in the nest
and they stood on the edge
flapping
their
wings
testing their new equipment
And then one morning
I came out with my coffee
and the nest that had once
been the center
of so much activity
and attention
was now empty
I thought about going over
to the base of the tree
to make sure that they all
made it out, but I didn’t
have the heart especially
after reading that half
of new birds don’t live
through their first year
Up to one billion birds die every year
Where do all the bird bodies go?
Do they just disappear to heaven?
Are they really angels?
Jason Fisk lives and writes in the suburbs of Chicago. He has worked in a psychiatric unit, labored in a cabinet factory, and mixed cement for a bricklayer. He was born in Ohio, raised in Minnesota, and has spent the last 25 years in the Chicago area. https://jasonfisk.blogspot.com/
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