When I was born I saw death devour the birth of something, perhaps the first thing so deep now it's hard to say, fruit perhaps, peaches on my mother's table. Then the particular way chickens stood on one leg. Death in sparrows. I remember their closed eyes, the hardness of the body of death. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 10. THE DYING FALL by THOMAS CAMPION MIMNERMUS IN CHURCH by WILLIAM JOHNSON CORY OH! SUSANNA! by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER AFTER MUSIC by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY RESERVE by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE |