By the river,
under the sorrow tree,
the universe says
the bones must dance,
Suddenly the sky rains gulls.
Pelicans, pigeons, crows, ravens,
hawks dart through our hands
in patterns of flight and wind,
The chicks died. Eight thousand of them. And you almost died too. You may be
breaking the way so many fragile eggs broke, vulnerable as the bird nation to the
A man has killed his fellow men.
What did we expect?
We asked him to kill his relatives,
but after years of listening to our war stories,