I Find a Common House Sparrow

circling in the dust,
a psalm of broken wing &
labored breathing.

What song is pulled up
in the little
dumb waiter of his throat
at a time like this?
The small house of feathers
shutters and I wonder,
is this one
of the ones who’ve flown
over my oblivious
head, day after day,
dancing with the wind,
fluttering in a language I’m not
fluent in, not being
a kite or a flag,
not having wings or anything to lift me
away from the slush of gravity &
slippery slopes Why
didn’t I see him before now,
soaring in the blue
sky, _Why now, only when fallen,
am I able to see &
hold _this
one _small _thing,
this _one _small soft
thing.

____

Rose Maria Woodson is the author of two chapbooks, Skin Gin (2018 winner, QuillsEdge Press) and The Ombre Of Absence (Dancing Girl Press), as well as the mini-chapbook, Dear Alfredo (Pen And Anvil Press). She holds an MA in creative writing from Northwestern University.