Not even children who brave the street
Will notice the robins, mistaking them for nightingales.

When one is asked what a bird is meant for,
She’ll point not to the sky, but to her shoes

And the white specks. They’re not stained, she’ll say.
She’ll not talk about bombs, just the absence of birds.

Tell her she’s right. The darkest place in the universe is
Inside one’s body—which is no metaphor.

This news will lead to the neighbor’s stoop,
Behind the fence only adults dare climb.