won’t go
see the sparrow
sitting on the grass
hopping onto the railings
and then over the grey road
to someone’s kitchen window.
What I’m trying to say is that
it is better to know this
when the heavy evening
having lost her happiness
comes to you
there quiet in your bed
it lays down in
the dark with you
then you know the meaning
of sorrow
the day changing its clothes
bored
and the stars racing in the sky
having outrun your sleep
see how this world drifts
unmoored
and when you wake in the
morning
the sparrow comes and
tells you this
then how easily
the whole thing
becomes a song
just like that
how the planes of joy
crisscross the sky
how the mind once again
comes home
and dances
delighted.
The above poem is from my first book Reeling (2012).