Wildlife Management II

I woke from a bird hitting the window, almost, I thought, hard

enough to break it.

The sun rose knowingly.

I slid the sash up and

stuck my head out like someone in an Italian movie.

A flicker lay

on its back—stunned—but it was blinking steady as a railroad

crossing.

Was there misery to put out?

Would it come to its

"senses"?

I thought where were you when bark beetles killed half

my trees?

Then I remembered, sleepily, reading that flickers mostly

eat ants.

I went back to sleep for half an hour, and dreamed, as I

often do, of horses.

When next I looked, the bird still lay still, still

blinking.

Maybe, I thought, it can't roll over.

So I went down and

rolled it over.

Terrified by my touch, it came to life and flop-

hopped down the hill into some sagebrush.

It didn't fly, but it

didn't seem broken, either.

I tried to find it later.

No luck.

Whether

it lived and flew off, or died thrust into a bush, was, apparently,

none of my business.

If it were thrust into a bush, I knew the ants

wouldn't wait for the guest of honor to start dinner.

Copyright Credit: James Galvin, "Wildlife Management II" from Everything We Always Knew Was True. Copyright © 2016 by James Galvin. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, www.coppercanyonpress.org.

Source: Everything We Always Knew Was True (2016)