Climbing the temple hill
leg muscles tighten
in our throats
The wind was strong that day.
i had ridden for an hour out of hampi looking for a lake.
i found a bird in the sand, with an iridescent body. it was wounded. I put it behind a rock away from the wind.
i went and swam.
on my way back i went to see the bird. It would try to flap it’s broken wing- a gaping wound revealed again and again by the strong winds. I took it in my hands nervously. He kept flapping it’s wings trying to fly away. i held it for a long time, tried to put it’s wing back to how it should be and tried to put him away from the wind behind a rock again. i put some water in a bottle i cut up, and tried to make a nest with some food packaging.
it’s wing was broken. I left him there. guilt.
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2 Comments
You should feel guilt for terrible use of the English language. Does your keyboard not have a “Shift” key to turn capitals on? Or do you not know the difference betweeen “its” and “it’s”?
@ BShitter
Prospero:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d tow’rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.