Sparrow
See the sparrow with his
little heart, little heart and little
throat
that babbles
and ripples with notes
like smooth stone ringing
walls sheer and singing
today there is a seeming mist
from behind the trees leaves
breathing a sigh upward
from the mouth the white sky
heavy with leaves lungs
lying suckered to twigs
like something fallen from the nest
breath picked and carried by passing wind
the boreholed core that leaves
dreams skinless
in the day’s racing light
the sparrow sits
his single note on the tree tops
little lungs, little green lungs
singing to the unpainted vanishing
whiteness this morning overhead.
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