Dead Bird

Dead Bird by Michelle Katz

I have seen you a couple time before,
Thinking, I need not do a thing,
nature knows it's way.

Yet, having just emerged from my own laying on the land,
in an experience of a death,
This time, I stop, in resonance.

And I see you now.
Your weightless bone foundation,
your fresh flesh,
your fine feathers.
Beautifully exposed to sun and eye.
I wonder, what has left you?

I take a white rock,
dig into earth,
not deep, just below the surface,
to the wet sand,
after the long rain.

I lift and carry and lower you down.
Feet down,
no longer meeting this end on your back.

I cover you with prayer, 
stone setting, 
and flower.

The eulogy is left to me.

I do not know what led to your death.
I can imagine the life you led,
and I honor the gifts I am sure you brought.

It seems unusual, your death,
in this time at this place.
With no tree to have fallen from,
no signs of being caught and dragged.
Much like my own loss, 
I cannot find the reason for this end.

The earth seems to beat and breath
where you once lay,
faceless creatures wishing for more of you,
communities disperse, wandering in all directions.
Grabbing for and wanting something that is no longer there.
So many, so much lost without your presence.

All death, beckons a ceremony
as the grief takes us underground.