The sparrow was caught in our freezer in a blackout;
poor thing. I could hear it beating its wings,
calling to us, wanting to be let out.
But the sparrow was in the freezer during a blackout,
when the power had failed, the freezer stopped freezing
and if we had only opened its doors,
let the poor thing fly away––
why, our food may have melted.
The ice cream would have dripped from its box,
the peas would have defrosted on the counter,
the frozen fruit would have been only fruit:
raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, rhubarb.
If we had let the sparrow out, it would have let the cold out with it;
we’d have lost our food, all that we had tried to preserve.
All that was necessary for life: it was in those freezer foods.
Of course, the sparrow kept calling, wanting.
But we didn’t really have a choice;
we would have died. Maybe.
Sometimes, at least, it feels like that’s all there is:
food, frozen in the freezer
and a sparrow.