POETRY

Originally Published on my Instagram page ellemaldonado_art  on 8/6/2020

LAMENT

I walked by your still

feathery body

lying on the pavement,

while twilight’s golden rays

transfigured

your barely grown

tiny frame.

It could perch as a pendant

and grace a queen’s neck.

Were you even a week old?

In the morning,

your winnowing dreams

hidden within it

will be swept away.

I wonder what Covid-19 meant to you.

Did it take the breath out of your tiny chest?

Was your death an offering

to frontline workers?

Did you huddle in your nest

before death awaited you outside?

Were you alone, like thousands

on ventilators,

grasping for your hopes and dreams

held within your last breath?

I barely noticed you

laying there,

on the hot pavement.

Your pale beak

open,

could you be gifting

New York City with your song,

from the other side of life?

Or maybe, when cities

started burning

while humanity’s hopes

burned with them

in the midst of protests,

rage, and fires,

ravaging the United States of America

you started naming

the black lives killed brutally

by police:

Are you saying their names?

#GeorgeFloyd, #BreonnaTaylor, #TrayvonMartin,

#Tamir Rice, #Michael Brown, #Eric Garner,

#Philando Castile, among many others…

Beautiful little sparrow,

did anyone hear your song?

Did you get to dance

one last time,

in the rain?

Will we ever know the good gifts

your short life

sprinkled upon us

on the earth?

Your feathers could have kept so many warm.

Did you warn us, sung the final cries

to a society

whose democratic aspirations are withering?

Beautiful little sparrow,

now heaven’s prepared

your wings

for their resting place,

made room for your soul

to fly in.

I wish I had given you a proper burial,

a final kiss,

I wish I knew your name.