handmade_ghost ,
@handmade_ghost@sunny.garden avatar

"Every minute or so, a gunshot.
A ceasefire. A tire shreds

on the highway, & pieces flit like sparrows
across the sky. Silly me. I thought
we were here to live. . . ."

from "Here, the Sparrows Were, All Along" by Chelsea Dingman

Silhouetted and vintaged photo of a song sparrow perched like the worn, enduring shreds of a soul on the side of a thin, notched stem that cuts an angled vertical across the center of the photo. The photo is a wash of softly glowing grey. Four other long, notched stems rise with the central stem, like the long fingers of a dryad's hand reaching tentatively towards the light that had been removed from the photo. The song sparrow isn't singing; instead, e leans against eir stem on thin cherry-stem legs, eir face turned away to eir right, the dark bill as smooth and precise as a timepiece (it's 3 o'clock), the flat slope of the tail rough at the edges, a flash of pale light at eir songless throat.
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