At The Speed of Flight - Feb 21 2025

 

At The Speed of Flight

Feb 21 2025

There’s always something.

Perhaps the cat’s gone missing

fridge sounds funny

car’s on the fritz.

Or a bird in the house.

Which is bad luck, or so it’s said.

It was a bat once,

flying erratically

darting and swooping

buzzing my head.

Is it the same for mammals,

or do only birds

portend calamity?

Either way, it seems unnatural

for a wild creature to be confined

the outside to be in.

It eventually found the open door

or simply blundered out.

Except now, I feel vulnerable;

my sanctuary

no longer sacrosanct,

the contamination

by carriers

and the impure.

Then the bird

beneath the picture window

I stumbled on,

a weightless thimble

of meticulous feathers

lying still.

Something happened

in a fateful instant

at the speed of flight.

Not just a bad day

its last.

Meanwhile, the cat came back.

And I’ve learned to welcome

the day after, and the day after that;

when anything is possible

and life goes on.