Dead Sparrow

Eight year old

In a pink heart top

Sitting on a grass hill

Dead sparrow at her left

She does what she thinks is right

Little hole in the ground

Her nail-beds muddy

Delicate fingers under the dead bird

Laid down and covered

 

Fourteen year old

In a pink sequined top

Walking by a grass hill

No hole, just grass

No sparrow, just grass

No muddy nail-beds, just grass

Memory as fresh as the grass

Scent of freshly dug dirt

Feel of feathers on a limp bird.

One dead sparrow

One live memory.

 

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