For Those That Still Can Fly

I asked him
“where do all the birds end up?
the sky seems so full of formations and flocks
but I don’t see even one dead body a day
is there somewhere sacred they go to pass away?”

“No”
he replied
“I see them all the time after they’ve died
it’s usually a cat, or disease or old age”

which seemed such an unceremonious response
to the plight of the flightless amongst us
I was hoping for a more enthralling story
of wise and noble final journeys
to resting places worthy
of lives spent experiencing a borderless freedom
beyond our comprehension

At least, I guess
I can pay respect
by continuing to follow in his stride
as we go searching far and wide
our eyes searching high
scanning the sky
for those that still can fly