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I'm an open book here, and I have a lot to say, so I'll just say it.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Smaller than my Own Pinky

When I was still a single digit,
one summer my father found
a baby bird fallen
out of an evergreen.

My failed attempt to rescue
the tiny bird,
smaller than my pinky
is still an emotional upset
I do my best to make up for

with every life I save;

a dog at one end of my couch,
a mischief at the other,
a rabbit down the hall
beyond the kitchen
at the end of the stairway
where my basement belongs.

All at one point,
smaller than my pinky
but each a life worth saving, 
because even I once was.