My mother discovered a baby bird

caught beneath the black tomato net

draped around her blueberry bush.

 

It stretched yet-weak wings

and found the strength

to somehow fly away,

 

its mother waiting

with a worm

on the outside.

 

                 ***   ***   ***

 

I wonder if the chipmunk caught

beneath the same net loosely draped

around my mother’s blueberry bush

 

died from starvation, dehydration,

or some other less-physical

need,

 

the soft, tiny shell of its body

cold beneath the heat

of summer sun.

 

                 ***   ***   ***

 

Does life, and death, and tragedy come

down to who we know

 

is waiting

on the other side

 

of a net

loosely draped

over my mother’s fledgling

blueberry bush?

                 ***   ***   ***

This morning, another

chipmunk

scampers in the yard.