it takes about an hour
to get here from my apartment
and i’m not going to stay much longer
i have thought all the thoughts
said the goodbyes
and found that all those procedures
are not going to do the trick
but still i follow through
spread my arms wide open
and get ready to dive into the unknown
face the man and the failures
they say i was doomed to be
my own take on this is i
will call mom on my way down
let her know i’ll be there in no time
and can she please
bake one of those sweet
sweet yoghurt cakes
she used to make for my birthday
i step back to gain momentum
almost there
but
i hear a flap
i’ve somehow frightened
a bird
it’s a little bird
who flaps his wings to dodge me
not his wings
just one wing
the other one seems broken
little guy can’t fly no more
how unfitting ain’t it
won’t move much
will not even try to avoid me
he’ll just stay put
unsettled
yet still alive
he’s been engineered to fly
now moves like a one-string puppet
maybe thought his little thoughts too
so i come down from the cornice
cup him in my hands
let him know about yoghurt cake
and cookies mama made
which i promise to try
and feed him
tonight
and again
tomorrow
Miguel Rodríguez Otero’s poems appear in The Lake, Book of Matches, The Red Fern Review, Wilderness House Literary Review, Scapegoat Review, Last Leaves Magazine, The Bluebird Word and DarkWinter Literary Magazine. He is friends with a heron that lives in the marsh near his home.
