Shiver of light
jolts the winter star-points.
I shake a little round my spinal axis.
Without a body to be cold in,
could I love those sparrows?
Without our ribbed existence here,
no tender hearts in cages.
Once there was no shiver,
Once there was no tremor,
nor shimmer.
Once there were no ears
and so no songs, nor silence.
But tonight,
I stand by the sparrows.