The Innisfree Poetry Journal

www.innisfreepoetry.org

by Alicia Hoffman

Sparrow

*

Black arrow, darting.

Feather and fulcrum,

crux of wingspan.

Upon the white

scaffold of winter,

your negative flares

as cameras shutter

and flash.

*

Black darling, sparrow.

Skeletal map of frailty.

Silk-boned roadmap

to a pea-stone heart.

Between a newborn

forefinger and thumb

you would succumb

to the faintest grip.

*

And there are no maps

to track this flight.

No sketches to trek,

no spots to x.

Instinct, then.

Intuition, if we trust it.

*

Birdbrains, we

use so little and

waste so much.

We like to match

points, strike

to even scores.

Birdbrains, we

are stars

preposterously

blinking.

We burn

even though

we've gone out.