She gazes longingly out towards the horizon,
Wishful and hopeful she’ll see a tiny speck in the distance,
A speck that’ll gradually grow bigger as it nears,
Eyes never blinking as she watches in persistence.
***
It was earlier that day that she watched her youngest chick,
Stand tall as he tested his new found wings,
Flapping them frantically as he stood upon the edge,
Taking off successfully as he flew with the glee that freedom brings.
***
She begins to realise that her last chick has flown the nest,
Her duties and responsibilities completed to perfection,
There’ll be no more, this was her last hatchlings,
No longer do they need her assistance or protection.
***
Age has crept cruelly upon her,
Her ovaries shrivelled to the size of a grain of sand,
Alone forever, her life now useless,
She’ll flutter on through her future’s wasteland.
***
Her feathers growing sparsely as they grey along the edges,
Her crest upon her head wilting sadly,
Her wings no longer hold the strength to carry her far,
As she realises from here her life will end badly.
***
Cast aside by the flock as she’s of no further use,
She’d flown through her prime with no thought for herself,
Raising her chicks as was her glorious destiny,
Giving absolutely no thought to her pending death itself.
***
Her offspring give her no further thought,
As they live the life she so graciously raised them for,
Her pain, her sacrifice a given they think nothing of,
While they hunt and mate, live and soar.
***
She flutters through the silent trees,
Tired and despondent knowing she’s been cast aside,
Alone in her torment as her heart shatters within her chest,
Knowing this is now her life, day in and day out until she died.
***
In her fragile state she curls into a ball,
Knowing she’s nothing, a has been, a waste of space,
And there she lies as her heart begins to race,
Until it explodes in her chest, as she disappears without a trace.
***
The circle of life can be cruel at times,
As her memory fades quickly from those so very few,
Forgotten in a flash, did she ever really exist,
Yes, but just for a short time with those she once knew.
If you liked my writing, please click on the small heart underneath, near my name. Or send me a tip and let me know you enjoyed it.
****
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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By Harper Lewis5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
Great piece ✨❤️
Very well written! Sad how fast we disappear! Beautiful poem! Well done!
This comment has been deleted
Sooooo saddddd 😭😭😭 But yes, that's the sad circle of life. Very well written poem!
Oh that is sad. Very well done.