Impermanent Innocence

Photo by Ray Hennessy on Unsplash

As the rain hails
and porous umbrella of the tree
drips pearly drops
to ripple the thin water
laid beneath, donned in leaf boats,
she stares up from a mud island
water shattering on her fragile wings,
shaking her baby feathers.
Yes, she is a baby bird.
Lost.
Flies a couple feet high, fumbles
and again stares up
with naïve eyes and agile neck
jerking in split seconds.
Her feet contribute a tiny ripple
as she touches a nail in the rippling mirror
then retracts again close
to the wood,
her brief home.
I don’t and can’t know her feels.
But lost she is
and vulnerable, on a beautiful day.
Finding Home
On her bony yellow feet.