Still
To grasp the delicacy
of a wren, one must gently
hold the tiny lifeless bird
cupped in a palm.
The weight of a one pound coin
and wing span the length of a pen,
its heart is no larger
than the smallest
button cell battery.
My cat removed her
collar with the tinkly bell
and who am I to pass judgement
on natural instinct as
she sashays by, the wren
clamped in her jaw
then dropped at the back door step?
Renowned for its rich trill,
high notes and varied timbres,
I acknowledged
this little miracle
with the stillness of the moment.
Lorraine Carey’s poetry is widely anthologised and published in Poetry Ireland Review, Abridged, Orbis, Prole, Smithereens, The Honest Ulsterman, and on Poethead, among others. Longlisted in the National Poetry Competition 2019, she has work forthcoming in The High Window and Ink, Sweat & Tears. She is also a Pushcart Prize nominee. Her debut collection is From Doll House Windows (Revival Press) She lives in Kerry, Ireland.