Like A Bullet To The Back Of A Sparrow's Head

[IAmCanadian]

Her gentle form falls from the jutting branch
My pup advances, an extension of myself
splitting bullrushes with an unerring nose
His clenched and weathered teeth conspire
to return her to my feet.

She could not fly on her own, and so
My pistol aimed, she fell within my sights
while examing possible avenues of escape
Looking confused on her branch, no power for ascent
The conventional winds too weak

Now, her eyes are open, she is tousled but alive
a fledgling lass, her clothing torn

My love has impact
Like a bullet to the back of a sparrow's head
It breaks the silence of the morn

'And yet I am not dead' she says.
No, disheveled but aware, with dandelions applauding her
from their places around her head, knowing she
Bore all the brunt, despite her tiny size

"I am yours," she says.

And like a bullet to the back of a sparrow's head
She flies.

- FS

Disclaimer: I haven't written poetry in fifteen years and know absolutely nothing about structure and metre. Your mileage may vary.