Sparrowhawk
By D.C. Klein
Circle my ancient heart.
Eat the part of me I locked away.
Above harsh waves, flapping and
feathering I struggled under pelting rain
for some sort of shore. Bird of prey
no longer I sobbed into hands
once talons. All of this for a story
and it wasn’t even mine.
D.C. Klein is a small-time poet living in the Pacific Northwest. In his work he often explores the point where domesticity and brutality meet, and what it means to live in a burning house. His writing has been published by, or is forthcoming with: Counterclock, Body Fluids, Not My Style, and the Salmon Creek Journal. In 2021 he self-published a chapbook titled Half A Martyr. He is currently reading Naked Lunch.