by Allison Grayhurst

The wind was moving

across the leper earth.

I saw that wind and that earth

in a vision building strong

as the autumn chartered on.

The sparrows sank into that earth,

each one carrying its own

unique song.

I was a sparrow filled with seeds,

sitting on sand in the sun

sure of all things. Then I was sucked

into the sick earth, breathing in

worm-infested dirt - myself,

forgotten, dead as a broken-off stick,

not even making a shadow.

In a vision I rose up a ghost -

a stronger sparrow now lacking substance.

I found a tree to claim and share.

And in that vision as the wind was moving,

it moved me

no longer.