Dreaming of Sparrows

sparrow silhouettes
Photo by Ali Pli on Pexels.com

There go the sparrows

shot through with piercing arrows

cut in hollow marrows,

fall from fresh air

to the steel wheelbarrow

clanging like a bell in a Christmas carol

then rise up, spirit heir,

soar to paradise shoals.

I didn’t mean to dream

about sad bird things,

but the heat in the feathers in my palm

clung with me from the blankets

to the bath

to the blizzard wind:

rare soul,

how will you fare

above the clouds

in blue heaven?

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