Sunday, August 10, 2008

Small Bird

Small Bird

I caught a bird
in my fishing line.

He screamed purple and red.
I clipped the hook
as I tried to free him
without damaging
his warm-as-a-boiled-egg body.

Fingers aflutter
I grabbed at pieces
of line
here and there.

At last
it began to loosen
and I pulled him
through its convoluted loops
as through a tunnel.

He stood on my hand
for a moment,
then leaped to freedom.

I started to the house as
he fell toward the water,
sucked in by a blue wave
and a large pair of fins.

In seconds it was as if
he had never existed.

Small Bird poem by Alan Harawitz
Original Small bird photo by Tim Borski
Small Bird image by El Pescador

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