and then you threw a stone
and they rose up
tore the grey sky open
with their white bodies
tore the cool air
with hot shrieks of fear
tore my heart
with the stoned one
lying on its side
one wing a white sail
flapping in despair
and the ground red
my hands red
as I wrapped
the bird in a towel
placed it in the car
and left you
standing
by the river edge
skimming stones
across dead water

© Dawn Bruce