Lone Sparrow Poem by JOE POEWHIT

I'm only a tiny sparrow. Here cast upon a house top
in the dead of winter. I look down upon the bleak
snow. Not a sign of food. A seed, a crumb, even a
delinquent bug, from it's nest of shelter. None for the
calling, of the pain in my stomach. Only the memory of
a morsel, from some forgotten repast.

My feet are cold. No feathers to keep them warm. Only
the thin leather skin and the hollow bones of flight.
Maybe only to raise one from the ice and cold. My
eye's are half closed from the ice and wind. Only,
the funny eyelids from GOD to block it all.

Fly away, I do to another roof. There again the ice
and snow, with no bugs below.

4/9/2005 POEWHIT

JESUS SAVES