i.      Cordelia carried the dead thing
        In her slim hands. Small, shaking, it had
        Collapsed in on itself on the windowsill,
        Still warm.

        She kept begging Regan to
        Touch it, save it, like the trick of life
        Revealed itself somehow in puberty, but Regan
        Could not bear to look at it.

        Daddy came in, after, large hands under
        Small hands; the bird could no longer fly and so was buried.

ii.     Her new husband killed one for her in the hunt, it did not seem
        Like a portent, Regan did not know any men
        Who could not shoot. He went to hand it to her, blood and bullet
        And body, but she turned away, she had no love for dead things.