Were I A Sparrow

Were I a sparrow
Feathers brown and black
Speeding through air
Or pecking in a sidewalk crack
For a solitary crumb --
Could I survive?

Could I last a year --
Darting 'tween large oaks
Or perching on maple branches
Taking reckless chances
Scanning grassy knolls
For in-season cicadas?

Life beyond my mother's shell
Is so awfully swell.
Why should I give up on forty years
Of this perfectly comfortable hell?

I'm well-fed, skin-covered
Wingless, but ably bi-pedaled.
Why should I meddle
With this utterly grounded existence?

I'll tell you why!
Just for the chance to fly!

2004