Inca.

Burial. © Ryan Schierling

We watched this one die. 


I heard a 'thud' on the back deck's glass door and the cats woke up, perked up. I lowered and shook my head – goddamnit, not again. It lay on its side with an eye up, wide open, searching. The feathers on the back of this Inca dove, near the base of the tail began to lift in a slow convulsion. The eye was still open, taking in the last of things, and we both knew it. It hurt me to watch, so I quickly turned around and went out the front door, looking up at the trees and the blue sky and then finally down at the hard December dirt, knowing I'd be digging another hole in the yard soon.