Flying into the window, my body starts to die 

Why am I in this chocolate brown box alone, nowhere 

to fly? The little girl starts to talk 

 “Bluebird are you ok?” 

The bird flaps its  wings, trying to fly,

acknowledging that it  hurt,  

The bird looked dead,

 but my grandfather lined an old box with straw,

 placed the tiny bird inside, and closed the lid.

They turn in the direction of their home,

praying to save the life of the little navy blue bird, 

hoping to see its wings flap once more.

Placing the box on the counter, holding my grandfather's hand

He opens the box with no hope left in his eyes

The feeling of my chest tightening, I look at him with teary eyes

Knowing the bird was forever gone.