Birdwatching

So.

I was the sparrow

Skipping like a child

Branch to branch

I caught butterflies

On every twig

Snapped them from the air

Like dying stars

But in me now something has changed

The heart of a sparrow is gone

And in its place

The slow beat of a hawk

Rises

All terrible hovering adumbration

I can nearly see the blood pumping

In something small

As a shrew

Such a pretense of innocence

That will not save it

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