Yesterday morning, just outside the back door, you took bread from my hand for the first time,
even though you are the littlest peachick.
Surrounded by your peacock father and his brothers, surrounded by your peahen mother and her sisters,’
you raced all of them and won each piece of bread I tossed onto the ground,
even though you are the littlest peachick.
Your big sister didn’t stand a chance and you gobbled all of her bread bits until I gently brushed you aside,
littlest peachick.
This morning, just outside the back door, I saw you again, but this time you were all alone.
I thought you were a pile of leaves blown together by the wind,
until I saw your little legs pointing upwards like the bare, autumn branches of a bonsai.
I went outside and approached you cautiously, not wanting to see what I already saw, that you were very dead,
my littlest peachick.
Your mother, big sister, and all of the others, came over very quietly to look at your dead body.
Then, just as quietly, they all stepped back, turned around and went away,
my littlest peachick.
This morning, the farm is strangely silent. Your family, usually so noisy and boisterous, has withdrawn from the vicinity of your death.
Out in the paddock, they nibble halfheartedly at the grass, looking up and around frequently, as if sensing danger, bewildered, as I am,
at your mysterious death,
our littlest peachick.
I see you now, from the corner of my heart’s eye,
high up in a tree that is so beautiful that it has no name.
You are no longer little; you are huge and your rainbow wings span the sky as you fly in and through the marshmallow clouds
of where you are now.
The littlest peachick.
jmgoyder 
Beautifully said.
Such a loss.
I’m so sad…. Diane
Me too.
Heartbreaking.
Aww…..it starts so wonderful and ends up beautifully sad. Very well written.
so sad.
Oh how sad. I just hate the word death. Sorry Julie
oh my, how sad. Sorry to hear this news.
Diana xo
How sad.
How sad but I love the ending .
Farming has its ups and downs. I’ve felt that way many times when I raised birds many years ago.
Poor little peachick.
How sad is this… and not knowing why makes it worse…
Aww, poor little thing.
So sorry Jules, poor darling.
😦
I am so sorry about your littlest peahen. You wrote an amzing ode to her short yet joyful life, you honored her well. Hugs Jules xoxoxox
I am so choked up – I don’t know what to write. You have so much grief in your life! I am sorry and wish I knew what to say for you to feel better. I have tears.
Please don’t cry, Judy! I am still a bit shocked still but nature is nature and I am gradually accepting this kind of casualty (normal I guess on a farm) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Oh no! Rest in peace, little friend.
How can I love–and hate–a post so strongly, so equally. Only the good die young is a trite phrase, but in this case the little peachick was the fastest, bravest, most eager, and the phrase applies. You told this so well, so beautifully and simply, that the writing makes me both love–and hate–this touching, sad story.
You write from the heart. this touched me today.
Happy-sad…he sounded like such a darling.
Oh this was so touching and sad
I wasn’t expecting that… I totally felt this, in the saddest way possible.
So sad. 😦 But beautifully written.
So sad, Julie. A lovely tribute to that dear little life. *hugs*
Julile, Sad and beautiful at the same time. Hugs and kisses, Bill
Oh no!
I get that nature is cruel, blah blah, but don’t you get tired of the heartbreak?
Oh, damn, you made me cry. What a beautiful tribute.
Sad to hear-you made a fitting tribute.
Wonderful written, Julie … so sad – but that is life .. one minute here, next gone.
I would have been absolutely devastated if it had been me. Truly lovely tribute …
Beautiful homage to a little peachick.