folded wings and closed black eyes
lifeless on the ground
but still imagining flight
safe at night
belly filled with seeds
in a nest made with straw and spit
her short time
as busy as a professional chef
darting
over the clover
quiet now
in spite of the winds
blowing her soft feathers
the pause is probably permanent
as i hold the tiny body
in my warm hands
feeling her chill
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