bob barci - (untitled #78)

Can't really complain
about the slight chill in the air.
It's not really bad
and afterall it is mid December.
I sit on the porch
with a purpose.
A ride will get me to an appointment.
In the meantime,
as I wait,
out of nowhere
a large batch of sparrows
land on the now bare limbs of a Maple tree.
They seem to be watching me as I write.
Could they be the ones
that rest and slumber in the next tree over?
Are they aware
that it is me
that puts out bread
and leftover food for them?

bob barci

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/untitled-78-2/