Antipasto
Wikipedia calls it butcherbird,
the little gray-feathered thing that flits past
my window every clear April morning.

At first I thought it a songbird, a breed
of common sparrow, and always wondered
why it refused to touch my birdfeeder.

Well, the butcherbird is a carnivore,
I discovered, and harbors no reason
to crave simple grain or honeyed water.

It snaps the neck of its prey then impales
it on thorns, I discovered, returning
later, at night, to suck out the marrow.

Looking, I see it now: the spear-like beak,
the quick twitch of its tiny head, searching.

***

Shira Haus is a student at Allegheny College studying English, Spanish, and political science. Her work has been published in places such as the Albion Review, Capsule Stories Magazine, and Black Spot Books. In her free time, she likes to read, cook, and write while daydreaming about herding sheep in the mountains.