November 2, 2019: a question of 'right' or 'wrong' or neither (Poetry)

November 2, 2019: a question of 'right' or 'wrong' or neither

When daylight was taking the place of the departing night

and coffee steamed in my cup

a squirrel climbed the birdfeeder to compete  with scrub jays and red-winged blackbirds

for peanuts and seeds in the front yard.

In the afternoon Not-Spot

returned from the bushes around the pond

with a small bird in his mouth

and dropped it at the bottom step.

 

Kali stepped from the porch to sniff.

She hasn't hunted in nine years. 

She sniffed and sniffed wrinkling her nose, her lips parted but she wasn't attempting to bite.

She appeared to be gathering information about the creature.

What she might learn

I doubt I'll ever know.

After picking it up the bird was motionless in my hand.

One leg appeared to be injured.

It's downy belly was the light brown of dried leaves,

its wings almost indigo.

I thought I saw it move slightly in my hand.

Placing it in a pet carrier with water it rested just a few minutes inside

out of the heat of the sun in the darkness.

Kali sat next to the carrier sniffing

and peering inside before laying down and keeping watch over it.

The bird began making a racket

and I took the carrier to the porch

and opened the door

hoping it could fly.

Zoom…it was gone like a dart. 

Kali and I watched. I was surprised,

I don't know what she thought.

Not-Spot sniffed at the concrete

where he had dropped the bird.

I was glad it had recovered,

but I couldn't scold Not-Spot.

He's a cat!

It was a bird!

What else was he supposed to do? 

If he did what he was meant to do

why did it feel so good 

to see the little bird fly away,

and was I  right to intervene?

Was right and wrong involved at all? 

Does it matter if the bird had lived or died?

As the evening grew darker than the day

a flicker arrived for suet,

chickadees appearing as hopping shadows

picked seed from the grass around the feeder and between the dead stalks of summers sunflowers until vanishing with the light.

Down the hall Kali and Not-Spot

are curled on the blankets

waiting for me to turn the lights off

and join them.