I wrote this poem in the last couple of weeks after reading Edna St Vincent Millay's 'Wild Swans'.
For the sparrows...
Sparrows
(after Edna St Vincent Millay)
As the sparrows chattered
their quarrel in the hedge
their frenzy seemed to shout over me
and draw me into their gangland morning.
How loud! I could not hear what my heart
would say, and forgot my heart’s beating,
its own waking and sleeping ...
So I left it for a moment
and lived in the heart of a host
of small brown birds.