grieving

Baby birdBaby birdOn the sidewalk;Gone so young, never feathered;Once encased, never fettered—Through your intercession:Let my death be like yours—in a whisper;To a hymn sung by mi familia;For my tomb the whole world.And let them sing unto new millennia:Those who flew that I may try to fly, whoLanded that I may find ground.Let them sing, then…