I sat on the front porch and thought about it. I shook my head trying to get rid of the sight of the gooey baby bird without its feathers. I shook my head and tried getting rid of this memory, but I couldn’t. I cried and I couldn’t make it go away. I couldn’t make it go away and I couldn’t change it.
So I said, “I killed the baby bird Mommy. I killed the baby bird.”
My mother tried to calm me down by whispering “Shhh.”
This was the way the world worked sometimes. This was life.
So I tried drying my eyes but all I could hear was one thing now.
All I could hear was the mommy bird, crying from somewhere far away in the woods.