A violent death

A violent death

When I saw the hairs upon the hall

and feathers on the stairs

my stomach took a dive

All of a sudden I saw it

what was left of the starling

and stalking it

was our fat

well fed

lap loving cat

The bird half hopped

into the living room

 I shoved the cat away

and closed the door

The bird flew frantically about

At least it still could fly

It swooped up to a picture frame

and stayed there quivering

A droplet of blood appeared

 from underneath the tail feathers

and oozed its way down the wall

I stood there helpless

as if by a roadside victim

unable to give the kiss of life

Suddenly

the bird dived across the room

intending to fly free

Instead it hit the patio door

with a heart stopping thud

and lay still on its side

I bent to pick it up

but it fluttered free

and hopped about the room

leaving a trail of blood

and feathers

Summoning all my strength

I scooped it up

holding tight its soft frail wings

I held its life in my hands

I could feel its little heart beating

as I carried it down the garden

seeking a safe hiding place

all the while murmuring

as if to a crying child

hush now, it’s going to be alright

I left it on the fence

and went back inside

to hoover up the feathers

and wipe the paintwork free of blood

and soon it was as if

the bird had never been

except for a streak of pink blood

trickling down the wall

and when I wiped it, it turned blue.

When I looked the next day

the bird had gone

And for a whole week afterwards

I could not look at the cat.

 

© Andrea Neidle, My Life in Poems
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2 Comments on “A violent death”

  1. Brian says:

    Hi Andrea
    Great poem – not for cat lovers! Or bird lovers! Clever to have thought of the subject, I guess that’s how the poet’s mind works!


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