I once killed a quail when I was eight
never meant to,
I was just trying to pick one of the eggs
with the help of a stick
I watched her getting dizzy so I took her
held her in my hands and I prayed
“Please Lord, don’t let her die”
but she did.
I saw her tiny eyes closing
so I put her back inside the cage
and went to see my grandmother
who was peeling oranges like she usually was
I asked her if we went to hell
for accidentally killing bugs
she knew there was something more to that question
like it usually has
so I had to confess my crime.
That night I cried myself to sleep
thinking about that quail
about the feeling of death
in the palm of my hands
It turns out I wouldn’t go to hell after all.
I hold a lightning and a pill box
thinking about me
about the feeling of death
in the palm of my hands.
What a wonderful story. Great writing.
You have a lot to live and to say. And you say it beautifully. Never forget that ❤️