a sparrow
standing
in the middle
of the road
plucking
at the worms
washed out
by the rains
unnoticing or uncaring of
the danger
from the vehicles
going too fast

i see
the fat worm
it is trying
to work into
its beak
the truck
barrelling towards it
i press the horn
in frantic bursts
i avert my eyes
looking back
to see
an errant feather
drifting in the wake

the world deserves
better
than this abysmal
incomprehension
that seems to hang
stagnant
a malaise
that i cannot shake
a bird
i could not save
a love
that was as much truck
as bird
everything hurts
around me
i wish i could take
the bird’s place