The Sparrows
The threat of rain’s kept folks away,
But out here by the river,
The sparrows flock when I sit down,
To see what I’ll deliver.
I never feed them, but I guess
That other humans do
And so they hop around my bench
In case some crumbs I’ll strew.
When minutes pass, they flit away
To find another source
As I gaze out at choppy waves
While feeling no remorse.
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