cramp

i found a bird
but only
half
alive
one broken
useless
wing
nestled between
two pavement stones
then fluttering
then nestled
in my hands

nestled
its beak soft
seeking
the warmth
of space
where fingers meet

nestled
its claw
clamped
firmly
around
the waist of my thumb

this was nine days ago
my hands still hold
curled,
cramped,
sweaty
empty
space

not daring
quite
to stretch
my fingers

not daring
quite
to feel
the ache
of ‘he is gone’

not daring
quite
to trust
the gift he left
behind