Native American Shirt

 

Native American Shirt

 The Hsieh family huddled around the Native American Shirt. Apologies. So many apologies. Finally, the body  lowered to rest. The body. Kari Hsieh. Still familiar, still tangible. My frantic actions heightened my senses, mobilized my spirit. Cupping the bird, I ran outside, hoping the cool air outdoors would suture every wound, cause the bird to miraculously fly away. Yet there lay the bird in my Native American Shirt, still gasping, still dying. Bird, human, human, bird. What was the difference? Both were the same. Mortal. But couldn't I do something? Hold the bird longer, de-claw the cat? I wanted to go to my bedroom, confine myself to tears, replay my memories, never come out.