Holy Week

Dislocated ruff of the Carolina sparrow:
she wasn’t hungry—she went for the heart,
my mother says of my Russian blue.

She wants me to inspect the dead bird
as if it were a confirmation of guilt,
and when I can’t, throws the mouthed bits

over the fence into the cow pasture.
It’s probably a mother with a nestof eggs, she says,
turning this small sorrow over and over

like a wound in need of licking. The tulips’
red chalices wave empty in relentless April
sunshine. Now flecks and foam of blood

seem to edge the lawn in flags: hyacinth
cut low in the grass by wind, or a body
grown reckless from weariness, abandon.

 

Volume 12.1 - June 2019

Charity Gingerich’s first collection of poems, After June, won the Hopper Poetry Prize and will be published by Green Writers Press in August, 2019. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in: Arts & Letters, FIELD, the Kenyon Review, North American Review, and Smartish Pace, among others. Gingerich is from Uniontown, Ohio, and currently teaches ESL to businessmen and their families.