baby bird

sleepless one more night
thinking about the tiny fledgling
stock-still as sculpture
planted on our sidewalk

around midnight slightly
stunned from its fall to earth
a vacant stare skyward
towards the gingko

it tumbled from when
no one was watching
pulls at my imagination
while Kort tracked the jay

across the front yard
trying to entice it to perch
atop a broken branch
to avoid shedding

his scent talking all
the while about the survival
of the fittest until I wake him
up to say “feral cats”;

he pulls on pants & work
gloves to recover the animal
where we left it beneath
the front stairs the bird

makes no noise when
he picks it up with both
hands to place it up high
safe where we hope

it has a fair advantage