What befell this sparrow
writhing on our porch
one wing extended
leg out, as if,
stepping into space
but for the head twisted back.
Are you watching me, Lord?

Wisdom says leave it
time may heal it or end its pain,
but I cannot suffer at a distance.
I scoop it up into the nest of my hand.

It slows, the head turns forward
as the wing contracts but
one little foot clutches my finger
like a limb.

Rest here and wait
for mama to come
as she has every other time
you needed her.

Its eye stares at this feeble giant
then closes slowly
as a chorus in the trees
sings its soul to heaven
and I weep.

6-26-18