as the sparrows flies | Write Out Loud

as the sparrows flies | Write Out Loud

As The Sparrow Flies

It fell from the summer sky the bird, dust on roadside weed

not pretty place a flutter of its wings and then nothing.

It, a sparrow didn’t look particularly old and birds can
live long,

but the call to joined the celestial heaven had been sudden

and no time for spring rituals, sitting on phone lines
flirting.

God’s canary bird had escaped its cage – it had read a book
that

God was not great- and she replaced it with a much lowly
bird

grey winged- yes, and quarrelsome, they tend to be and they

will be asking questions. I know of a couple they have a
nest near

the roof terrace when I go up there they never stop their
shrilly

thrilling until I leave feeling hurt because I know where
they live

 on the third roof
tile to the left, and I know they have shat in

my deck chair. They have produced fledglings which have
turned

out to be as uncut as their parents, but I have said
nothing.

Sometimes I wonder if full freedom is good, as humans and
birds

we think we have the right to rule the world but we are
leaves

blown off the tree and we now little of tomorrow.