Watch the sparrows in their morning frenzy.
One, the size of an apricot, chases its plum-
small brethren. They chirrup, and,
uncoupling, the humidity presses. One sparrow
bounces from dumpster to the skeletal tree.
It’s a carnival and flurry; your cigarette
radiates a heat, cherry close to your fingers.
Fleeting, as most everything is fleeting.
One thought on "Birdwatching"
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Great description and I enjoy chasing your colors around in this poem! Have to admit, I feel like a cat around that “apricot” sparrow.