construction cranes and craning necks
the cranes are pecking baby breasts
over the seasonal disposable grills
that fired our doom-filled hearts

sparrows sparring over crumbs of bread
over bread trails we left in our stead
swarming to our silence
as time stands still again

the wind is gushing through our holes
the cities are aflame no more
rocking happy left and right
like maniacs in denial