1. What a rich canvas of Nature you are able to observe.


    There are sparrows occupying Wall Street,
    as we speak, their quavering notes, grown
    angry and provoked, scream their mantra:
    “Revolt!” In a sparrow’s time, will this last?

    A curtain of gold leaves have not yet fallen
    off their trembling branches, quite like
    the price of gold shooting through Dow Jones
    roofs; behind them, a hawk flexes its wings.

    Will this march through the wind tunnels
    of Manhattan rouse vultures perched on bank
    ledges to swoop down on twittering sparrows,
    race the predator to wads of forclosure notes ?

    The CEO of Chase cackles in lieu of a fiddle,
    watching the fire below behind a barricade
    of gold bullions stacked against a molten door,
    no match, indeed, for the twittering sparrows.

    —Albert B. Casuga

  3. study
    New seedlings, white stems soft with thirst on a sunny day.
    Water mists against the cloddy earth. Irises stretch their blue wings.
    Sparrows, brown with a shrill chatter, scold the crows, dogs, me.
    Tall trees in the park are resonant with other songs I don’t recognise.
    No magpies today. A hawk circles for quarry over the open grass.
    Kids pedal for speed laps, counting their supremacy out loud.
    Time and light drain from the day.
    A four-day deadline presses home its point. Assignment waiting,
    I close my curtains.

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