When I came across the Chickadee
It still had life where it lay
A beautiful creature with sweet song
It lived to fly and from breeze
To breeze it flew without care.
Never has a barrel of bad apples
Been turned to edible fruit
With the inclusion of a single
Good apple. Much to the chagrin
Of the optimists, one bad apple
Will ruin the bunch. One good apple
Is devoured either by the bad
Or for a snack or lunch.
On this day, Evil lay in the tall grass.
A cat stalked its unawares prey.
That poor Chickadee was singing
Its last song today.
Having left the nest with foul words
Its mate declared “Good riddance!
Sing with your flock.” Though she meant it not.
When left uncared for wood will rot.
Kept polished, oiled and dry
It will last centuries.
Stains leave curvy marks
Where instead there should be grains.
Termites eat the innards like cancer
Eats the brain.
I rose from the grass
Held the bird in my hand
And crushed from its chest
Its very last breath.