Sparrow Girl.

Sparrow Girl.

You remind me of a sparrow girl.

Sometimes with your shaven head of a saint.

And then when we hold you tight and you cling to us,

of a little child.

Sometimes you are a woman.

I look at your book of photographs and I see a keener eye.

I look at your stories and see bird feet across the page.

At Tina’s party we still run playing children’s games on New Year’s when we should be drinking and doing grown up stuff.

We admire your courage as you faced cancer, blood trickling down the pipe instead of urine and you find the guts to smile.

On our fingers is the feel of your shaven skull.

Today you let go.

Sparrow Girl, this time do not return.

Nest in the sky. 

With Love Tarun & Celia