Broken Sparrows

The seasons passed beyond the glass doors I could see in detail each of their days As I wheeled my chair forward- No one day remained the same You can always find some difference Mirrored by choice Save for a sparrow That began its visits On that autumn morn It perched itself on the handrail of the deck And bathed in the warmth of the sun Pruning its feathers as it looked toward The distant mountains collage Of copper, gold and brassy reds And every year on every season since It did not fail to visit Standing on the handrail of the deck Outside the sliding glass doors During winters I placed out seeds And in the summers I gave water And like this nature chose a companion And I named him Then on a very hard winter the wind blew cascading landscapes of deep snow fields undulating as a tide He came Laying with a broken wing That dotted red the snow Instinctively I gathered him, Brought him from the cold Not knowing the choice I had inspired That had already been made Sustained - I set his wing We spent our days together Till the time came to let him go I put him out on the handrail He stood there for a time Pruning his feathers In the warmth of the summers sun And in the end never left And there was not that broken sparrow That he gathered from the cold.