Lyrics

Sparrow

At an outside table washed with chill sea air, amid talk
of transformation, we didn’t notice the sparrows scattered there
like leaves; small brown beings; skittery, intent,
not until one dove down past my ear.

Still, we paused only for a moment, then kept talking.
But suddenly the sparrow streaked between us again,
over our food like a jet, landed on our table and stared.
A string, probably fishing line, was tied around one claw

and at the end of the string his other claw lay dangling
one of his legs, only a stub. The waiter tried to cut the line with a knife
but he was nervous, afraid and the sparrow flew off.
What had happened?

Had it been caught in a fisherman’s line? Did some kids torture it?
What wounded it like that? He was not conspicuously different
from the other sparrows except for this malady,
a mutilation he carried around with him, bearing the weight of it.

Like the man I heard about who had amputated his own arm
with a rusty knife so that he wouldn’t die of hunger and the elements.
The sparrow, that kindred spirit, sat staring at me like he knew me
and I wanted to cut him free from the weight of that claw.

To somehow reattach it, to heal it,
so he could perch with solid confidence again
so he could balance in flight
so he could grasp the world around him.