First aid for birds

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Yesterday, my daughter wandered the city
with her friend, learning how
to destring pigeons.
To scatter cracked corn when you spot a limp,
and wait for the wounded bird grazing
to be hemmed by her healthy peers.
To catch her in both hands and unwind
the thread—the cord—the long strand of strong hair
from her tangled coral feet. To release.
Selah
O God, for an ounce of this compassion
to drop and spread among the sea of your people,
an antidote to the poison that floods your earth.
That we would see each other
as my daughter’s friend sees the pigeons:
worthy of care in a war-cleaved world;
worthy to walk the broken ground
in just a little less pain. To be freed from the bondage
our waste creates.
Amen.