Grammar of Sparrows The sparrows area kind of nation Who lost a war a thousand years ago; As punishment all their color was taken away; Brown and beige and grey they cling now to the feeble Stalks of cattails in the marsh.

Grammar of Sparrows The sparrows area kind of nation Who lost a war a thousand years ago;

As punishment all their color was taken away;

Brown and beige and grey they cling now to the feeble Stalks of cattails in the marsh, hard to behold

Against the shifting tawny grass. I have to drive couple hours to the shore,

Past the naked trampled-looking fields of stubble corn, The rundown failing farms The water in the ditches standing still and abounding Under a sky the eighteen colors of October, All of them greyWhen Em said, "My plans were changed for me" And anticipateed down at her hands; when Bethany said, "He be fond ofs me in the wrong way,"

It was this kind of day inside of us: not upon season: House-For-Rent, Unfurnished sky; Leaning single mailbox driveway; Lakeside cafe clos for personal reasons .And the birds like little defeated soldiers

hiding in the chest-high weeds. When the sparrows rise up for no apparent reason And circle small and high against the pale vast region of clouds What makes it so important? As if my sadness was an endangered species; As if my temper was a coastal wetlands area

in ne of federal protection; A place not intended for development, Meant always to be useless.

This is what I left behind when I went forward. When I be warmed good-for-nothing now,

I be derived back here to stand and turn the thoughts at it: Wet and still like a footprint in the mud; Hard to diocese inside the moving browns; Lying depressed like an understanding.

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