A Bird came down the Walk—
He did not know I saw—
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw
-Emily Dickinson
we were sometimes troubled & tired,
sad for no reason,
& so pretended we were not birds
& fell like stones—
we told ourselves that this falling—
we would remember. We thought
we would always
be birds. We didn’t know.
-Joe Wilkins
