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Birds that Fall by DS Maolalai

there was movement,

down by my foot

and the movement

was a bird,

lost and blinking,

a furry

brown golfball,

barely feathered.

it moved

and made weak noises,

wings twitching

like broken spiderlegs.


I stopped

and looked at it,

but they say you shouldn’t touch them,

so, like with a painting,

I didn’t;

just paused

and stood with my hands in my pockets.


above

the trees

were thick and heavy green,

punctured

with the burned wartmarks

of old crows nests

and waiting cats.


I don’t know

what happens

to baby birds

that fall.


no,

I do—

but I don’t like knowing.


DS Maolalai is a poet from Ireland who has been writing and publishing poetry for almost ten years. His first collection, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden,” was published in 2016 by the Encircle Press, with a second, “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” forthcoming from Turas Press in March 2019. He has been nominated for Best of the Web and twice for the Pushcart Prize.

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