Rowena Velasco Poet Free verse

The Bruised Bird

She dropped from the morning’s quiet,
a flash of white, a small gasp of wings.
No song followed her fall,
only the dull sound of mercy closing.

The cat crouched still in the doorway,
eyes wide as if she’d seen
the cost of being wild.
Even she seemed to grieve a little.

I held the bird in my hands…
light as breath, soft as an old prayer.
The air itself stopped moving.

Love leaves marks we can’t see,
wounds that shimmer beneath the skin.
Yet love keeps our trembling hearts from leaving.

I laid her down beneath the lemon tree,
covered her with the gentlest earth.
A feather caught in the wind,
rose once - then vanished.

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Gershon Wolf October 5, 2025 at 6:35 PM So poignant, Rowena. Truly touching. ~ Gershon

sara Etgen-Baker October 5, 2025 at 5:26 PM soft and exquisite imagery with a touching response to the contest prompt. Loved the wisdom in these lines: Love leaves marks we can’t see, wounds that shimmer beneath the skin. Yet love keeps our trembling hearts from leaving. I appreciate the depth of your soul

John Watt October 5, 2025 at 4:38 PM Rowena, you write with such a depth of emotional intelligence and compassion! This piece is a compelling and heart-rending reflection on the transient nature of life. Your grasp of life's immense value is demonstrated in memorializing this fallen bird in both its burial and in committing the memory of the moment into poetic narrative. In so doing, you have affirmed the preciousness of life; and in sharing, you uplift the heart of your reader to a place of gratitude for each waking day. I particularly loved the lines, "only the dull sound of mercy closing" and "soft as an old prayer" and the ending was perfect. Thank you ~ John