The Crow Dying In My Backyard

It’s still there.

Midsummer evening, a sweeping cool breeze
Drink in hand, I sit in my backyard
Thoughts drifting to the memory
Of the crow dying in my backyard

A gentle black thud
That roused my attention that fateful day
A bird so light, the sound so loud
Of the crow dying in my backyard

A twisting and turning mass it was
Confused as to beak, wing and leg
Desperate and caught in a violent seizure
The crow dying in my backyard

I stood watching, part shocked, part queasy
Part fascinated, Part inspired
For not every day did I see
A crow dying in my backyard

The struggle stopped as if resting
No sound, no breath
Then it resumed in sudden realization
The crow dying in my backyard

It bent backward till I thought it would break
Rolled over in sheer pain and fright
Legs waving, wings flailing, eyes pleading
Of the crow dying in my backyard

I wanted to run
I just stood there wondering
Why it was so silent through its suffering
This crow dying in my backyard

Suddenly, the bird turned on its belly
And without warning, took off in flight
For a moment, I felt relieved
Of the crow dying in my backyard

But I was wrong, terribly so
It jerked to a stop in mid-air
And plunged straight on its head, once again it was
The crow dying in my backyard

Then, it began
In soft, breathless gasps, it began to caw
A chill in my spine — I shudder even now at the sound
Of the dying crow in my backyard

I ran as fast as I could
The sight, the sound of a half-death
And through every closed door and shut window
All I heard was the crow dying in my backyard

It’s creepy what dying sounds like
A painful death
And it pervaded the entire space of my hearing — the sound
Of the dying crow in my backyard

Caw, caw, caw — the softness resounded in my ears
A helpless plea for some mercy
Caw, caw, caw — how much more suffering
For the crow dying in my backyard

It had to stop
It could not go on
I could stop
The crow dying in my backyard

In my backyard
I chose the largest rock in sight
An instrument of mercy, of salvation
For the crow dying in my backyard

I stood over the cawing mess
And spoke into its eyes
“For you”, I whispered
To the crow dying in my backyard

One strike, complete silence
Driven by a haze, a freakish emotion
I delivered blow upon blow
On the crow dying in my backyard

Smash, smash, smash, smash
A butcher on a screaming spree
None to stop me from crushing
The dead crow in my backyard

Then it faded
As I was sitting on the grass
Rock in hand, blood dripping
Blood of the dead crow in my backyard

A severed head
Beaten, beak half open
Eyes of pain and shock
Of the dead crow in my backyard

Unmoving, unfeeling
Amidst wings, bones, feathers, flesh
Didn’t know what to do, what to feel
About the dead crow in my backyard

The doorbell rang, husband back home
A hasty wash before he walks in
Smiles outside, nothing within
Nothing but the dead crow in my backyard

Dinner served
Food for him, for me bloody crow meat
I only tasted
The dead crow in my backyard

Everything went black, the cawing resumed
The air putrefied
Husband cawing at me
Like the dead crow in my backyard

I rushed out and screamed
“I did it for you!”
“I made it easier for you!”
“Did you?”, asked the dead crow in my backyard

A voice in my head
A rational thinker amidst irrationality
“You took life on assumption”
I stared at the dead crow in my backyard

“It was a caw, you thought it was pain”
“It was a caw, you heard a plea for mercy”
“But you aren’t a crow, are you?”
Said the dead crow in my backyard

I had heard it beg
But now, slimy doubt
Slithered into horror and guilt for the murder
Of the dead crow in my backyard

Husband saw the mess
Saw the rock, saw me
Eyes like the crow, wide open in disbelief
At the dead crow in my backyard

“Why?”, he asked, in shock and suspicion
“Why?”, I asked, in regret and guilt
“Why?”, asked the crow, in whispers of death
As I wept for the dead crow in my backyard

A year later I sit in my backyard
Scars still burning
“Why?” — it remains unanswered
The dead crow in my backyard

Guess I’ll never know
But I know this — that when you end a suffering, you begin another
Like me, burning in hell
With the dead crow in my backyard

And when a crow comes to die in your backyard
You should just let it
Who suffers more
When you kill a dying crow in your backyard?