There are no graveyards for the birds. The sky
Is their domain. So do the starlings just
Fly off to it? What happens to the dust
Of wrens? Where do the crows go when they die?
Five thousand redwings fall and we ask why,
But what about one sparrow? Does a gust
Of wind bear it aloft? A jay’s heart busts:
Where with a final shiver does it lie?
I have not seen the carcasses of birds
While out on walks along the gull-winged shore.
Our Lord says not to worry: Birds will be
Safe in his care. We have the Master’s word.
Which leaves me asking just one question more:
What graveyard waits—what bright white sky—for me?