I Stand

You saw me you I am the open beak of a fledgling sparrow this fledgling sparrow with small blurry eyes with a thin trembling neck. You saw me I am the redness of a bud this closed bud behind the tall wall of dry thorns with the silent laughter of a prisoner in that narrow thirsty mouth. You saw me my cold wounded fingers above the ashes you saw me. There will be no more forgetting in the alleys from behind every tree I peek out. In the washed windows of the house I stand. I stand in the pond in the mirror in the tea glass in your hand. There will be no more forgetting you must come with me to the wheat field ...