'A True Story in Winter'

Every morning at eight
The same lady sits
On the same bench in the park
To empty a paper bag of bread crumbs
And the same bomb of sparrows
When she walks away
At 8:05
Folding the bag
Into a square that fits
Her pocket with a sigh.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
QR Code to 'A True Story in Winter'
Read this article in
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today