Another slightly modified sonnet

Yes, I am committed to sticking with this 15 theme.

Your feathers so blue against asphalt stood,

They fluttered with breeze and your dying breath,

But signs blew past and so save you, I would,

This day's fate could not have foretold your death.

As I kept my dog close to my own side,

I rang for help thus assured I'd done right,

In cardboard cradle you twitched, perhaps cried,

You'd fallen before but soon you'd take flight.

Then came the wat'ry mess, but still I scorned,

Faith with works surely would not let you die,

Aid arrived, but too late and so we mourned,

All I'd done had not been the reason why.

Your beak and bleak eyes linger still in mind,

Your soul and others became intertwined,

Some saving can't come by others' acts kind.

(Prompt by me)

"IMG_20180203_161059323" by Mike Linksvayer

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