Bluesky

There is no one without his hourand the hour for us arrived at duskwhen two sparrows

outside the café pecked crumbsoff the curb, suddenly turninginto birds of great plumage,

both of them singing,male and female,unheard of, yet heard

by us at a tablein a Broadway sheduntil the dinner hour came to a close,

that hour in the first lineyou’ve already forgottenbecause I distracted you

with the conversion of the birdsand the magical crumbslike words you follow

down the pageuntil you come to the endand find yourself facing me.

I tell you I’m starting to fall…but you interrupt, saying Ohand this is the next to last line

and just the beginning.