Grieving for Phoebe

I have been watching Phoebe
the California hummingbird
along with four thousand other people on the internet.
She's battled a lizard, a crow, and her own biology and not winning
the battle of late. Her last brood of two would be labeled "failure to thrive"
if the Department of Children and Families paid house visits to birds.
Her most recent eggs are dead –
one discarded from her nest by Phoebe herself
after its stench attracted the lizard
The other one left to finish decomposing in the nest
while she flitted away to mourn.
Do birds grieve? I feel her grief
but perhaps that's just like Elliot feeling E.T.'s grief
in that movie that made me sob,
which my mother is convinced traumatized me,
just one more piece of a mother's guilt.
There are so many reasons to feel guilty and inadequate as parents
and even before we become parents.
Knowing which ones are true is the hardest part.
Her third attempt yielded better results
One egg hatched and the chick fledged without issue
The other hatched but the chick was startled from the nest
By the strong black wings and rawwk rawwk of a crow.
The chick’s whereabouts are unknown
I remain hopeful she is safe
Hopeful for my own eggs.


Previously published in The Houston Literary Review, September 2010