Magpie

Magpie

I watched you, Brother, hurl that half
brick into the birchlings, followed
the wails and found like you that splayed
schematic of a magpie, ant-swarmed.
You reached to touch it, to share
in its death like the insects.
I snapped back your hand, dragged you
crying and bone-curious into the house.

The crawlspaces began to stink, the airing
cupboard jammed with sheets, skins
of dust over the wooden rails. Brother,
when I walked past mirrors you weren't there.
I found the bird in your toybox, and locked
it in the cupboard. But you've been
in there all along, shunting the door
which has no lock but me against it.