Will you nail those birds down for me?
My grandma asked
Of course
I answered
Pretty, detailed birds they were
Ceramic, fragile
There was two blue
And two yellow
But as I grabbed one to begin
My hand slid across jagged edges
My fingers slipping inside
What happened to this little guy, Grandma?
Oh, well
The wind wind came up
She said
And knocked him right off
And he just went sailing for the concrete
He hit that cement nice and hard
Broke his wing clear off
Do you still want me to display him?
I asked
Of course
She answered
There is still a lot of life left in him
He is still so beautiful
She explained
Just face that side in
Towards the house
That way only I will see the busted parts

So I did
I turned him
Grabbed my hammer
And nailed him down

There he stood
Rooted to his spot on that deck railing
Bobbing ferociously in the wind

And no one knew
No one noticed the hole in his side
No one saw the damage