I'm not sure what to do with him.
Maybe I can save him.
He was so easy to catch – he had let go and drifted into range.
Now he just lies here, listless, molting.
Feathers fall from him like tears.
Surrounded by soft down he is beautiful.
I feel guilty, that I find him so wonderful in his despair.
I am only human, I tell myself.
Fallen feathers fade from crisp white to flat grey.
How much time do we have together?
How far will he fall if I let him go?
I’ll miss him.
Temper
Temper
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