The sun

was in its element

making everything

greener

but birds die

in hot weather

too

and even more. And the bird

was lying on the road,

distinct

as a blue jewel. I

was 10 years old

and scooped it up. We were

on holidays

and I’d walked up

to the shop.

And it lay in my hands

soft as a ball of velvet

and I cupped

and carried it

off

to lie on the verge.

They say

it happens more in summer. They see

the road’s reflections; think “water”

and don’t get off

before a car comes

fast.

But I still remember

the pressure

in my hands – feathers

so bright

and the eye

so open.

Like a beautiful earring

catching the light

in the shine

of an overturned

jewelry box.

© DS Maolalai 

DS Maolalai is a poet from Ireland who has been writing and publishing poetry for almost 10 years. His first collection, Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden, was published in 2016 by the Encircle Press. He has been nominated for Best of the Web and twice for the Pushcart Prize.