sparrow

no one quite notices the little sparrow popping in and out of the awning of the roof at rhe bus stop 

not the lady rushing to catch the bus

not the teenagers shoving one another 

not the old man seating himself gingerly 

not the lover cuddling one another- those two don't see anyone actually 

meanwhile the bird flies to and fro carrying little twigs, sometimes from behind the bus stop sometimes from all the way across the road 

to us, she just another bird. to her we are just another human 

so much hum drum above and below and yet we are unaware of each other 

all unaware except the poet quietly writing in her notebook that is

the community poem 

the sparrow busay building its nest in the crevice of the busstop 

and is, building ours in each nook of our high rise flats

not always aware of the other 

the petty squabbles 

the tender kisses

the hungry mouths and tired caresses 

each to its own and yet we are together a community, without one there'd be a gaping hole

sometimes aware of the other, sometimes not