The hearth cracked, ashes spilling from the fire grate;
and that same day a bird flew inside the house, a starling.

Reaching out to catch it I strained my arm. I was sorry
for us both, and let the bird go in the road, where a cat
caught it and killed it, but left it untorn.

There’s a message for me in these random happenings
my neighbour said, but he also believes in premonitions.
I buried the starling in the yard.

Selected bySara Clancy
Image credit:Photo by John Yunker

I was born in a cottage hospital beside a brook. In school my teachers said I never paid enough attention and should be more outgoing. After school I worked as a garderner, then a decorater, I've been a shop assitant and hung curtains and blinds for a living. I now work as a clearner in a well known fast food resturant. Oh, and I read and write poetry, because it feels worthwhile.