the sparrow

falls

 

 

down, and I see

it all

 

but can stop

nothing

 

what good is the eye

if all sight can do

is wound the heart

 

if all

sight can do

is to alert the hands

to their helplessness

 

what good is it to witness

when there can be only silence

 

the sparrow falls

fluff of feathers

in shades of brown

and the forsaken sky