Frantic wings beating blindly,
Bombarding the window pane.
Beak nimbly tap tap tap tapping the glass it doesn't see,
Jewel toned chest sparkling sapphire in the sunlight.
It buzzes for freedom and freedom ain't free,
So we discovered that evening on the concrete.
You looked so foreign when still.
Like a wooden figurine.
The motionless body not doing you justice.
Now another movement courses through you-
The slow march of decay and the skittering procession of ants over the newly dead.
Were the hands that held you too heavy to fly from?
Too forceful with its release?
Did the open window shatter your fragile bones?
Tell me, sweet sapphire. Let my grief fly free.