�Sparrow�

A little red-topped
Chipping sparrow
Blends in with the ground and dirt
With its feathers of black, brown, and gray.
So tiny, it looks like a bug
Scurrying across the asphalt.
Hopping along aimlessly
(Looking for something? Exploring?).
First walking in the direction of Russian Center,
Then back in the other direction.
A chirp so soft
It is barely audible,
Yet so small
It is perfect for its size.
Calling for something
As it walks behind a huge tree.
Finally flying off
Either out of its fear
Of people,
Its frustration
That it cannot find what it’s looking for,
Or the realization
That it is not in the right place.