it’s been three days since your funeral

a white-crown sparrow pecks incessantly at the patio door,
wings fluttering madly to remain airborne, feet flailing the air

i blow a kiss, smile through fresh currents of briny dew and wave just as madly until,
satisfied, you fly away
one last time

Craig W. Steele lives in the lake-effect snow belt of northwestern Pennsylvania where, by day, he’s a university biology professor. He enjoys writing both short fiction and poetry and dreams of becoming a widely-read unknown writer.