An evening in winter

It was dusk outside; inside the long hall Dinner was set; candles lit. Away, from the end of the corridor Twilight fell softly across the floor. At the other end, a door opened To a patch of sky and a green-capped tree.

In the hall, alone at the table, I sat Staring at the food I really didn’t see.

I didn’t hear him first; maybe I sensed – What was he after, inside a house? Silently he had entered from the garden Perhaps a gust of wind swept him in.

A little sparrow, fluttering his wings, He skitters, flies up and down, zigzag. He almost hit the ceiling, and he didn’t - He tried to escape but the windows were closed. I watch him, and in him I see me. He comes up and passes over my head. I wince, a panic rises in me As he flies nearer to the fan.

I am tense; fear grips, I clench my fists.

Then I hear him, he chirps once – Maybe I spoke to him, silent; Maybe knowing is enough, no words; Maybe all it needs are two hearts, To let it be known that we love.

At the other end, sky had become bright And the tree now glowed golden. Now chirping louder, the sparrow shot Swiftly out through the door.

He vanished Into the winter sky Whence he came; I muse on my life – Whence I came Where would I go?

Outside, a cuckoo calls.