Tiny charred corpses of sparrows,
Finches.
Who could have imagined it:
The birds were burning.
Thousands of
people…
Tons of
rubble…
Thousands of
watches
Thousands of
pictures in frames
Thousands of
rings
Thousands of
shoes
Thousands of
eyeglasses
Other images
and other ghosts
Crowd in and
confuse me.
The only way I
can
Fit it into my
heart is to make it
Small, make it
smaller.
One woman
One man
One child
Smaller and
smaller
A heart
A liver
A paperweight
A bone
A shopping
list
A feather