Dead bird
in Sunday's Well

on Strawberry Hill

ooozing out of the tar
as if it were

rising from
the dead

rather than being
dead.

It's black feathers
struggling to break free

(a 2-D drawing
becoming 3~D)

it's head
above it all

screaming at the heavens
its silent agony

that still screams
across the sky

as church bells call
us to worship

its death
mocking

us our belief.

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunday-s-well-on-strawberry-hill-for-scarlett/