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Wounded Birds (Samuel Jones- Bastrop, LA)

I like to intervene to end the suffering
Of a broken wing
And a shredded feather.

I can't help it: I'm a healer at heart
And I'm drawn to those
I know I can help.

Their feathers are different,
But their songs are the same:
They hurt from the inside- out.

So I give them a bird bath,
And bird house with some bird feed,
And they fly again

Mostly away.

A tear glides down my face when
I allow myself to ponder
The transient nature of these relationships.

But I'm a healer at heart.
And knowing that these birds now have the choice to fly away,
reminds me that I've played my part. . . 

So that they can continue to play theirs.


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