And at that moment, a lilting melody lifts to the moon as a single sparrow sings.

What place does a woman have here, in the realm of men?

Still, I look down, and the grass is so green, I cannot understand how it does not wither and die with sorrow. ~Song of the Sparrow

I watch her as she leaves. Everything about her is fluid as a river. Her messy hair, her xylophone voice, the strokes of her paintbrush. Even her camouflage army jacket hangs loose, flowing like ribbons.

The birch trees loom ahead like a brotherhood of ghosts.

Child, think not of those things, those dark possibilities. Your father and brothers are here with you today. Lavain will tug at your braids, Tirry will sing you songs, and your father will see his wife's beauty in you. Savor their love today. And it will never leave you.

My sparrow, she flickers and wakes and sings and sings.