No Excuses

The pellet hit your breast
and took my breath,
my mind followed a rising panic
of realisation, I had taken a life.

I had laid the breadcrumbs,
hid behind the garden wall
waited in silence as you landed,
lined the sight, squeezed the trigger
it was all my responsibility.

Your body was still warm
as I tried to revive you
soft like you were filled with water.
The colour of your beak
the clarity of your eyes
the perfect design of your feathers
all wasted by me.
I buried you in the garden
and made promises
I have kept.

The following year I saved
a fledgling thrush
from the mouth of a cat,
raised it on worms,
set it free when the weather
turned warm,
gave it back your life.

He only visited the garden
a few times,
but I kept looking.
Maybe he made new friends
or maybe the other birds told him
what I was really like.