Sweetboi

 March 18, 2025

Warm spring day. I planted poppies and dug up ivy. I saw a strange pattern on the silver maple, and when I neared I saw it was Sweetboi, hanging dead with one talon lodged in the bark. Maybe he died from being stuck there, but there was a splatter of blood on his breast, and it was so easy lifting him down I couldn’t believe he couldn’t do it himself. Beautiful winged being. His lids were only half closed, and his eyes sent forth a fierce glare in the sunlight. I buried him. I crawled into the shadows to weep. I’m still there. El, the God Who Howls in the Wilderness, my Lord, I thank you for the companionship of this wild spirit. Let me believe I did right by him.