the cat and the bird

my cat has been naughty,
has killed another bird

feathers lie strewn like
little dresses on the bedroom
floor,

i slide the desiccated body
into the dustpan, it rolls
over somewhat and small black
pin-prick eyes stare into me.
they are lifeless and
heartbreaking.

mirrored, I can see myself, floating
on that perfect black
dropped into a bin;
forgotten.


the cat wants food,
the bird is dead.