LITTLE SPLIT STILL LIFE

The bird feeder hangs in the wind, it's unmolested,
all person-shaped malingerer, sunlight eating his skin like
birthday cake, an explosion of seeds, the clockworks

in the throat of a kestrel, he's handsome as the man is wet,
slicking his hair for winter. Other sparrows, a little razor-
burn she suffers, one aspirin tablet split in half, two snowballs

in her tiny fists. The hawk remembers the time he caught
that junco by surprise, for instance. There wasn't anywhere
to hide. That night they made the whole house shake.