Sparrows

Note: This poem was written in Bubion, Las Alpujarras, Spain, where Paul Heidelberg lived from June, 2004 to August, 2006; after about nine months, he saw his first eagle -- one of three Spanish Imperial Eagles he then saw regularly (at the time it was estimated there were 260 of these majestic creatures left in the world). Visit http://www.paulheidelberg.net/
for more poetry by Paul Heidelberg.




SPARROWS


I came to these mountains
expecting hawks and eagles,
and what do I get?
Sparrows.
Little brown creatures
important enough
to be featured
in books about ecology.
They take my bread
and speak the language
of the mountains.
At twilight they
disappear
to return the next morning,
flying in and out
of my tree,
walking on my granite,
sharing my bread.