Sparrow Bones
By Cynthia Neely
One man looks at a dying bird sees nothing but unanswered pain... another sees that same bird, feels the glory, feels something smiling through – “The Thin Red Line” – Terrence Malick No, don’t let your daughter ride her pink trike the short dirt trail from ranger’s cabin to nature center. Skulls of pika, marten pelts, sparrow bones line the shelves. The brown bear, so thin this time of year, hidden in the brush. The thick arms of a grizzly can crush a child even before gigantic jaws unhinge. I warned my son not to speak to those he’d never met, to avoid their tattooed forearms, firm and furred, their too-earnest eyes simply seeking kindness. Why do we fear what we don’t know, but do not fear those who smile in our own home? The favorite, grandfather might say. Monsters prowl not only beyond the edges of our maps. They might have arthritic fingers curved like bear claws, breathe whiskey through buck-teeth, sit at your Thanksgiving table. Canadian Club, cold turkey, gravy, pooling and cooling on the plate. silly child, nothing’s lost, nothing really happened Nothing. Some strange crescendos. Fully clothed and pressed against you. Tells you harder. Makes a face, red with what you are yet to know. be a good girl, do what you’re told, make the bed clear the table, take a bath, be quiet, close the door, don’t tell Once, you saw something smiling through. Now you see an old man, a sharp shoulder. Now bones the weight of a sparrow’s. Now you see the dying bird.
Cynthia Neely is the winner of the Bright Hill Press chapbook contest with Passing Through Blue Earth (2016) and Flyway: Journal of Writing and Environment’s chapbook contest with Broken Water (2011). Her collection, Flight Path (2014), was a finalist in the Aldrich Press book contest. Hopewell Bay (2017), a single long hybrid poem, was awarded publication by Seven Kitchens Press. Essay and creative non-fiction work appears in The Writers’ Chronicle, Terrain.org, and Cutthroat, a Journal. of the Arts.
**We do our best to preserve the integrity of each poem; however, due to programming limitations, some poems may read differently on a mobile phone and in certain browsers. For best viewing, use Chrome on a desktop/laptop.
This poem crushed my heart and I, too, have felt it in my bones. Beautifully written.