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...GROWN-UP TALK by KATHERINE MANSFIELD JASPER by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON RESURRECTION UPDATE by JAMES GALVIN BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW QUEST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A SONG OF ETERNITY IN TIME by SIDNEY LANIER |