I’m sorry, little bird. Did you know
that I still think about you, at least once a 
week? I think about that winter when it snowed
a foot and I walked to the dollar store around the
corner in my snow boots. I think about seeing you
there on that low branch, snow dusting your back.

You were so still trying to outlast the cold.
I said to my friend, “Look at that bird?
It must be so cold. Poor thing.” 

I think about what I should have done.
picked you up
put you in my coat
(looking back you would have let me- I’m sure of it)

I think of the cage in the top of the closet that you
could have stayed in while you
rested in the warmth of my small
apartment. I would have let you go as soon
as the snow melted and the world returned.

I’m sorry I didn’t stop. I’m sorry I kept walking to
buy Oreos. I still remember you, little bird.
I remember how you looked- dead-
on the ground the next day-
fallen beneath the branch you
clinged to the day before-
frozen to the bone. I’m sorry.