Fallen
By Rebecca Kinzie Bastian
29 August 2008
Chipmunk Sonnet
Don't look away—it's there for you – minutiae
furled out, bright ribbons garlanding the road,
cracked like some lesson in anatomy,
a detritus of speed, weight shadowed.
Intestines string against the pavement's gray.
Just stop and stoop to see him all aglow,
this little sorrow opened to the day.
You move him with a stick — you want to go—
lift furless flesh illogical and blue
with bits of bone and fat bright marigold.
How intimate the violet and honeydew.
There are no flies, the day is far too cold.
But turn around, you haven't seen it yet—
a clean red heart, still waiting, perfect, wet.
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