Dora catches sparrows.
I mean, she attracts them with a song.
House sparrows. Black chested sparrows.
White crowned sparrows. Cinnamon tailed sparrows.
Down from the phone lines they swoop
to her upraised arm.
They exchange sweet secrets
and neighborhood feeder locations.
They exchange nest building plans
and rules about egg warming.
After four days, I recognize a new call
to entreat Dora to the yard.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney