There is no providence in the fall of a
sparrow
Have you seen life wrest death?
Not unlike the ashen face in
Bergman’s Seventh Seal
Waiting patiently for chess to
finish
An arrangement to abide the
inevitable
Life in its ethereal grit is no
game
Hot sky plucks the sparrow in his
flight
Blood ooze in the hemorrhage of
fall
The heart beats still while death awaits
Eyes open to the deep end of space
