I - SPARROW LOVE
He was in the mob of bachelors
That chased her from bush to tree
To the top of the block wall,
Chattering sharply, shoving
At each other's frantic displays,
Their wings and chests held high,
Strutting so she'd notice. And
For some reason she chose him.
Was he the biggest or the loudest?
Did he shove the hardest or was he
Just the brightest of a dull bunch?
Only she knows or maybe she doesn't,
But somehow he became the right one.
Now she rides the swaying cypress crest,
Her eyes glittering dark glass,
Her tiny body warm and quiet,
Waiting for his attentions. And
From a lower branch, he flutters up
And on top of her, a soft pressure
As he dabs his secret organ
Inside her, quickly, rhythmically.
In moments he flits down
To a lower branch,
Rests, and moments later, up
And repeats the fluttering climax,
Again and again.
Then the phone rings. I answer and
When I look back for them
Through the kitchen window
They're gone.
Rochelle Cocco
|