Little Bird
Our holiday in that old art deco apartment block
brought us into each other’s domain little pigeons
for us, respite from the Covid 19 devastation
a place of shelter for you and your mate.
In the morning I watched you both from the window
as you flew out into the community and back
each carrying a twig, leaf, or some other random bits.
The corner of the concrete stairwell,
that’s where you chose to build your nest.
Evening time as I prepared our evening meal
I saw you resting on the railing by the balcony
our worlds seem somehow to connect, to bond.
I looked out for you as I made our bedtime drink
two grey figures huddled together in the dark
you had settled down for the night, ready to sleep.
I saw the single egg laid there exposed and unsafe
I worried for you, but there was nothing I could do.
If you were human, I would see the distress on your face
Know your grief, understand your loss, endure your despair.
You looked, looked away, looked again, and again.
Your egg - your hope for the future had been shattered
destroyed, smashed as though it meant nothing at all!
there you were staring at the now vacant nest
your partner was not with you, you were alone
If you were my son, daughter, friend, neighbour
I would hold you close and try to console you
Say words of comfort and hope for the future
I looked out for you after that day.
You did not return.
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