The Plight of the Sparrow

He alights on a thin branch
A wisp of brown grass sandwiched in his beak,
And blinks at the world.
Leaves sway in the breeze above him like
Flimsy green umbrellas that cast a
Cool green shade over his tilted head.
I watch as he hops, left, right, then stops and
Stands still,
Silently staring at a hostile world
Wondering if he'll be perfectly safe in the slender tree
His castle in the clouds,
His home, his life, his hope;
And as he perches, he ponders,
As I ponder,
What will become of his little home he's built.
As the rumble of voices approaches,
The heavy pound of footsteps,
The powerful scent of men's cologne,
The tripping laugh of his wife,
And the clack of plastic shoes against pavement,
He knows that the threat is too much
So he spreads his wings and flies away,
To hide in the clouds and play in the sunbeams,
And find a home secure from
The threat of the outside world.

[6.23.03]


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