hope

eleven dead birds
each a new color
laid out on a table
dark eyes lost to light

a tuft of chickadee
upside-down in a glass
the sparrow's spiny tail
points to some other idea of sky

cowbirds swept into a kitchen corner
(more numerous than fallen leaves)
clogging the sink drains
plugging the toilet

one of each species placed
in a refrigerator
a robin a blue-jay a cardinal
in separate bowls

crows heaped in piles
atop my blankets
each night I'm roused
by muffled thuds

at 3am these birds are still alive
they fly around in song
whitewashing all the furniture