"This is not a book to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force." - Dorothy Parker


A sparrow's child, naked

In the dark huddle of

An eave swallow's old nest,

Waits for its unfolding

Into an emergent self.

A flurry of wings,

Arouses the nestling

To gape blindly for food,

But it's a crow,

Reaching in to pluck at

The uncomprehending head,

To clamp down on

The warm pouch of organs,

Bruising and crushing them.

The crow carries off

The sparrow's child and

Feeds the shreds to his own

Children's gaping mouths.

But the sparrow still sings

To the world from the rooftop,

For the crow took only one,

And the rest wait.

For what may come.

Rochelle Cocco