He said,

… –“papa was
a sparrow

with doleful eyes; head
cocked, east side.
all genuflect

on sky scraped knees.

sunk in air too thick for
flying He shut windows

and stained sheets;

empty in the end like light–
less rooms, dregs

of glass, or words

so faint and vacuous that even I
never thought twice

of their meaning. Messy
but never with prints,

of whom each shard had once belonged.

… –the little boys and
dead birds scattered

in the streets.

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