In Line at the Drive-Thru Pharmacy

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We never pay attention to the sparrows
drab brown tiny wing blurs
and maybe this is our problem.

We walk across the hard-packed ground
every day every step and only notice
when rain splits earth open.

When your surface surrenders
to a force almost invisible–
never having held a storm in your hand—

when your feet, twin soldiers
full of bones, fly without wings
you should know you’re not really flying.

Lucky sparrow, waiting out the downpour
beneath the drive-thru pharmacy’s
covered ledge. Shelter with no prescription.

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8 responses »

  1. that’s what i meant. 🙂

    too funny. my brain is very scattered. there are many theories about why.

    i’ll see what i can do about the holding a poem in your hand line. maybe i’ll take a notebook into the movie this afternoon and write while the kids watch.

  2. Jill, you have a good eye. That’s the beauty of observation and contemplation. And when we bring that magic to our writing, it shows. It touches the reader emotionally–which all good poets and writers, for that matter, want. That connection.

    Another made an observation about the sparrows and how they’re considered of little worth. In many ways the lowly sparrow is much richer than us. It doesn’t sow, yet it’s fed, finds safety and can fly in the face of danger.

    People can be so oblivious to things, arrogant in their size and ability to be movers and shakers–the dominant life force in the food chain.

    “you should know you’re not really flying.

    Lucky sparrow, waiting out the downpour
    beneath the drive-thru pharmacy’s
    covered ledge. Shelter with no prescription.”

    I really like this. I’m glad I found your site. Congratulations on the sale, btw!

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