Sparks, Nevada

By Cynthia Cruz Cynthia Cruz
In the middle of the night, father
Brought me a falcon.

By morning, it ripped the wire and flew the hill
Into the highway.

When they found me in that car
My sleeve stemmed in blood,

I didn’t know what it was
I was trying to kill.

I saw a craft of orphans steaming down the river.
They were dressed in white and silent as a séance.

It was then I spoke to the bird.

Already God is shaking his black seed
Back into me.

Source: Poetry (May 2014).

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This poem originally appeared in the May 2014 issue of Poetry magazine

May 2014
 Cynthia   Cruz

Biography

Born in Germany, Cynthia Cruz grew up in northern California. She earned her BA at Mills College and her MFA at Sarah Lawrence College. She is the author of Ruin (2006) and The Glimmering Room (2012). Her poems have appeared in numerous literary journals and magazines, including The New Yorker, AGNI, The American Poetry Review, Brown Paper, Boston Review, Denver Quarterly, Guernica, and The Paris Review, and in anthologies . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Nature, Animals

POET’S REGION U.S., Mid-Atlantic

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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