Day 287

You had a child who was like a bird:
delicate, quick.  When she ran
it was as though she were in the air,
flitting from branch to branch.  Her feet
barely touched the ground.  Her mind too
was swift and sensitive:  the way 
she turned her head to look at you
when she disagreed, or to let you know
she had already learned what you
were trying to tell her.
Like a bird she was in her voice, her leaning
into whoever it was she was talking with.
You stood outside the tent
and watched her go.  Like a bird,
you said without speaking it.
Later, when you knew
what had happened, you walked
toward that place and passed a bird
who had also been felled
in the same attack.  Take her
with you, you said to the bird.
Fly ahead of her. She will know
how to follow.