Flightless Bird

Sitting with a blanket laid over her lap,

she was gaunt. Eyes sunken. Pale. 

Weight that couldn’t be spared, slipping

from her. A flightless, trembling bird, 

stuck in a shrinking nest. She talked 

of new anti-depressants, daily routines,   rituals prescribed. Cried 

for her boys, her life, her husband –

all that couldn’t be predicted when he knelt on one knee, sliding on the ring.

Beyond the door, the sound of him 

preparing lunch. She whispers a gut 

wrenching plea, if only it was 

cancer instead, life would be desired.

In spite of it, she survives 

another hour, and another. Pressed by 

the loneliness of an endless night, 

a desperate song of hope still yearns

for daybreak.

BIO

Melissa Elder is a poet from New Jersey. When she's not reading or writing poetry, she's trying to capture it through a lens. She has two collections of published poetry, The Mundane and Nostalgia. A third book, In the Quiet, will be released in the Fall of 2026.