Chard deNiord




Small Black Eye

The sparrow lay stunned but still alive
in the periwinkle, a victim of the window
that appears as air in the kingdom of birds.
I picked her up
and placed her wing
against my face as she came around.
All the world—sky, grass, trees—
shone inside her small black eye
that was perfectly still as it stared
at me like a stone that could see.