to the sparrows in the terminal at Mitchell Field, Milwaukee
all your life you have to travel somewherecrumb to crumbfloor to soffit, bubbler to piano,the spread of atriumand your still point an immense sanctumthat holds the pattern of your flightand if you knew how wide was the offering of your sky, how far would you fly?all your life you have to roost somewhereplastic treegirder or spar, baggage claim,the top of a shop, security,and your sanctuary whatever peacecan keep safe winged desireand if you knew how unblessed was the safety of your nest how long would you rest?
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