Sparrows

How infinite are the sparrows! Little paler in reclamation as they nestle between walls, clinging to a golden sign; bound by color, warmth inflecting, yonder comes snow, gentle, yet down, a moment where color lifts— this light travel I capture, glancing within each wheel of thought among the cobbled echoes of cloud-to-cloud, sparkled fragments a portent that lets me await.

In the silence ‘twixt closure and mercy, as autumn rustbacks shape, I know them scattered by wind, friends stretch till halves return, a feathered echo above tree, and once stood beside me. Birds are lost in every courting line, caress and fill each sky, exquisite notes, a bend toward patience. Even pinched birches heat towards joy— I notice sparrows blend “together”— yes a glimpse at rippling stems, boundless warmth, breathing companions, yonder across a patterned floor;

• Marianne Moore