why i feed the birds
why i feed the birds
by Richard Vargas
once
i saw my grandmother hold out
her hand cupping a small offering
of seed to one of the wild sparrows
that frequented the bird bath she
filled with fresh water every day
she stood still
maybe stopped breathing
while the sparrow looked
at her, then the seed
then back as if he was
judging her character
he jumped into her hand
began to eat
she smiled
a woman holding
a small god
Disarmingly simple little poem. The surprise insight at the end ties in with the opening word to make the moment an apotheosis, which tells us “why I feed the birds.” Well-done!