Robin Suicide
A robin committed suicide today
dead against my living room window pane;
flying fast in chilly mid-November;
perhaps heading south.
The sound; wings blurred; a thump!
he went straight to ground.
He should have missed the house,
it's large, the window is below the roof,
he was not flying blind
or forgot to look.
Like a jet with no flaps down,
he hit the window full-throttle;
smashing pain.
I got up took a look
expecting him to fly or stir
but he didn't move below; lay quiet.
I went down to see.
Robin, older, neck awry
didn't stir, didn't move.
no silent cry.
Neck broken.
Instant Death.
Instant Oblivion,
I looked for mourners.
There were none.
This Robin was solo in Death as we all are;
on his own.
It didn't seem fitting
to conduct a garbage-can burial,
I said a few words, cursed,
and decided to bury him in dirt.
Picked him up by his tail plumage
took him to the back yard;
dug a shallow grave, mumbled something;
lay him down in there;
patted the top of his dirt pyre
my good deed done.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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