Sparrows

Trying to reclaim some sense of humanity in the morning before work.

Hear them chirping in the thicket,

They emerge along the fence,

Descending like ask-gray sparks,

Scattering to find the crumbs.

His wife by the window watching,

A fleeting smile to mark the moment;

One slice of bread is enough,

A miracle for this multitude.

A long good-bye and a short embrace,

They feel the pull of the rush hour,

In the sullen daze of the long commute,

Lingers the song of sparrows.

Author's Note

Written twenty-five years ago near the beginning of my marriage.