A Bird in the Hand

 
A goldfinch hit my window yesterday
I heard the smack and instantly I knew
I rushed to see, and motionless he lay
Where just a heartbeat earlier he flew

His lifeless body felt so warm and light
Though small and soft, I’d never call him frail
Such subtle strength, he was designed for flight
With craftsmanship and colorful detail

I willed his breath return, and shed a tear
Poor victim to a simple pane of glass
His brothers flitted at the feeder near
But ever out of reach they made their pass

A tragic gift I knew it was to hold
Within my hands this miracle of gold