Sparrow's Message and Left

Two Sunday Poems

Sparrows message

by Kerry Zagarella

The frozen rain crinkles

against the window

behind the dripping sparrow

splitting shells

A day to explore remembered silence

and notice my own beak cracking something

hard

the cold water bead rolls

across the smokey gray feathers of the junco

onto the striped palette of the downy

then splashes

onto the unsuspecting woodland sparrow

eating at the bottom of the feeder

who now looks up

cocks its head one way

then another

trying to glimpse the colors

of a new bird

as the water beads and drips

wind twirls the feeder

is reborn

and looks through the window

her beady eyesight sliding

through the silence of forced air and passing cars

to fill just an instant with gratitude

and that is enough

Left

By Neal Zagarella

If you had lifted my wallet

Or knocked in my teeth with a chair

At least I would have my day in court

Instead my settlement is paid

In too much wine

And too much space

And outside the window

The maple tree you leaned against

Slopes in disappointment

And when I walk out to console it

The grass you lazily sprawled upon

Weeps beneath my feet

The purple and yellow pansies you sniffed

Look away, down

And the old, wooden swing mourns and moans

Mourns and moans beneath my solitary body

Sensing the unevenness

The wind gets lost

In this new space beside me

And the finches chatter nervously

Trying to fill the waves

That once lifted your laughter

Up into the maple branches

Limbs whose shadows

Drape my shoulders in sympathy

We all feel the space

Poems and other vices fill my empty hands

But what comforts the birds and the trees?

What eases the blades of grass, the breeze?

You must come to them

And whisper to them your explanation

When I repeat the words you said to me

They hang frozen

All day and into the moony night

In utter disbelief

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