For You, Little Bird

I’ll list the things that passed without a care:
His shiny dress shoes, and her sharp high heels;
The children playing nearby, unaware;
A bicycle with ancient, rusted wheels;
The falling leaves; a most garrulous squirrel;
A lovelorn boy, who stumbled as he sighed;
A new-made mother and her newborn girl,
The former flustered as the latter cried;
A day and night; an autumn breeze; a dog
That wagged its tail and licked your crooked feet;
A pair engaged in tender dialogue
Who, loving love, loved blindly down the street.
Just I, your feathered corpse gave brief delay,
​To write this eulogy, and then away.

Julie Lunde is the recipient of the 2015 Arch Street Prize for her essay "The Plural of Fish." Her poetry and prose have most recently appeared in Underwater New York, 3ElementsReview, and The Allegheny Review, among others.