Three hours earlier, this white plastic bag transported a homemade macaroon to a friend at the gym. Now it’s bringing home a tiny baby bird for burial in the flowerbox graveyard on my patio.

I found you 20 blocks away, Hubert. I didn’t know what you were at first, but when bent down and saw your closed eyes and yellow beak and flightless wing, my eyes filled and I sniffed away the immediate tears. Had you ever lived at all?

I buried you a few minutes ago, still crying. I told you your sweet life mattered.

Rest in peace, Hubert.


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