Sparrow Life

by Aidan Andrew Dun

sp2


The brown sparrow
who drinks
from the crack

Who bends to
the concrete
near my suntrap

Sucking
rainwater
out of the reservoir

Made by uneven
flagstones
has no lack.

The rain falls
because of
his thirst;

The sun beats
down on generous
windowsills.

Breadcrumbs
flower there
warm grains;

He lives
by blue sky and
cloudburst.

Only the polythene
devil of a
plastic-bag

Tumbling
inflated with
February gust

Suddenly quickens
his avian
pulse:

Monstrous white
phantom
spinning-on

Pausing to lie
belly-down
killer-lust

Concealing itself
in flattened
manoeuvres.

And when that
clever white cat
has gone

It’s back to
the miniature river
in the dust.






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