both dove parents came to the site tonight at around 7:00 p.m.
walking back and forth, looking around, where is the flower pot?
where are their offspring?
my thoughts go to shall I put the pot back up on the fire escape?
shall I bury the baby birds in the pot? will they or other birds dig them up?
should I find another place to bury them?
my heart bleeds over the pain/loss and angst of their parents as they wonder what happened in the course of this day?
it pains me to look at the dead baby birds, with their wings formed, and noticing the materiality of their forms. the wings look like they are twill-like in which feathers would then have grown onto. their feet/claws fully formed. their bodies fully formed. They were clearly more than just recently hatched. Maybe even a week old? Wish I would have been around to see their birth and know exactly how old they are.
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