There, in the empty parking lot, was a lifeless bird.
Eyes open, limp where it lay.
Green iridescent wings folded in, its spindly little feet open on the pavement.
It wasn't a gruesome sight. I suspect it didn't fall to its death,
It looked too beautiful, no signs of trauma.
The only hint of emptiness were its eyes.
Dry and exposed, like two black pebbles.
Opaque, revealing nothing.
"Sweet thing," I whispered, pulling Miles's leash as he curiously inched forward,
wanting to know it.
Some part of me wanted to show the girls
a bit of beauty in the suffering.
The sunshine made its wings glow emerald.