BIRDY

I sat in my comfortable chair
sipping sweet, dark coffee.
It was a beautiful fall morning.
The multi-colored leaves cascaded before my eyes,
doing a fall dance, done many previous seasons.
The harsh winds blew in the pine trees.
The small birds were migrating now.
I looked in my backyard at the thistle sock.
Two finches I had named...Mr. Goldman and Mr. White were pecking at the seed,
fluttering their wings to keep their balance on the sock.
I diverted my eyes for a moment and heard a thump.
A small birdy had hit the glass.
I saw the small body writhing in the grass.
The colors of the wings I observed were beautiful.
All at once, this startling beauty turned to silent nothingness.
Birdy was inert, no more...dead.
I left my chair for another cup of coffee.
I planned on going to my garden with paper towels to remove the corpse;
but some creature made off with it.
At least birdy served some usefullness in death.
Yet, I was sad.