ciae meae puellae, –Catullus2
Perched outside my window
on an ice-glazed limb
two plump sparrows without necks,
waiting out winter.
*
Among all the birds at my feeder
only sparrows comes to dine,
wearing bibs
tucked into their collars.
*
Not the downy woodpecker,
but rather sparrows woke me,
tapping at my window to complain
that the feeder’s empty
*
Sparrows mid-air, fluttering wings,
waiting in a holding pattern
for a turn at the feeder:
Passer domesticus traffic control.
*
Pull up the sheet, cover your nakedness!
No, it isn’t the neighbor this time
smoking outside again on his back porch;
it’s sparrows on the windowsill, gawking.
*
One, two, three, four, five,
six sparrows crowding my feeder;
six versions
of the same poem
* * *
Mark Pawlak is the author of nine poetry collections, most recently “Reconnaissance: New and Selected Poems and Poetic Journals.” He lives in Cambridge, Mass.