by Carol Muske-Dukes
Love comes hungry to anyone’s hand.
I found the newborn sparrow next to
the tumbled nest on the grass. Bravely
opening its beak. Cats circled, squirrels.
I tried to set the nest right but the wild
birds had fled. The knot of pin feathers
sat in my hand and spoke. Just because
I’ve raised it by touch, doesn’t mean it
follows. All day it pecks at the tin image of
the rest is here---along with fabulous daily poetry---at Poetry 180
Poetry Friday is hosted by Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect.