sparrows, three
now four, sit
chirking,
on the cherrywood
branch....
if i were a fanciful poet,
i would suggest they gossip,
but i think it is more, base
than that.....
it appears that three, vie
for the attentions of one...
it is then, a matter of courtship...
as they bounce
and fly and sing.....
and me a ******,
...marveling.
at the ardour of the dusty fluffs of feathers
....and the uncanny joy,
their antics bring....
must be the romance,      
fluttering in the air....