Sparrow sings an aria unpierced and defiant into the sky
Perched on a fire escape ladder outside Abuela's window
Who sits in the dark through the hot afternoon
Waiting for Hector, Dona, and Sylvie, and Mami and Papi and their city residue
Perched on a fire escape ladder outside Abuela's window
Who sits in the dark through the hot afternoon
Waiting for Hector, Dona, and Sylvie, and Mami and Papi and their city residue
Sparrow harrows his harmony straight past the flutter
Which dodges round clamor two stories above a dude
And his nascent salvation by cremolatta sorbet
'Troubadour or flaneur?'
Each lick licks away
Birdie squints towards the park where he was once young across the street
As cousins move twigs from out of the trees
They build nests in moldings and lampposts and steeples these days
Ask the bag lady why: Vicious Blue Jays!
But son they were pretty and when the Sparrow held guard at night
You couldn't tell them from bats!
I know lady, I know.
Sparrow waits on an itch, maybe under his wing
Sparrow calls on an appetite, but nah nothing.
Then Sparrow hears his song return before long
And he sings it out again, unpierced and defiant into the sky.
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