COTTON COFFIN

I am four as I look out of my window onto the world
that shows a limping sparrow.
I prepare a cotton filled box that will provide softness
for its pain with a small bowl of water nearby and some bird seeds as well.
In the morning as both the sun and I rise, I look at the soft cotton box
with the sparrow inside. It does not move.
I now have its pain and no comfort follows.