One worm at a time.
No canning, no storing. No twittery
little cupboards filled to the brim.

Why then do I scrounge like sea
-gulls, searching empty shores for
remnants that do not belong to me,
screeching mine! and stealing trash?

The truth lies in trees,
limbs aching for sky, reaching
for something greater, ready to receive
whatever falls. Knowing this
next blue breath is everything, all
I’ll ever need.




Written for Poetic Asides, Day 28.


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1 Response to Sparrows

  1. I love this…the unspoken meaning in your title and the last line break…the breath of blue…beautiful, De.

    Happy Thanksgiving and a wonderful vacation to you and your family!

    Grateful for you my friend!

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