The Nook

        There is a nook,
        a small arced shape
        recessed in the stone wall,
        that holds a graceful urn
        from antiquity.
        
        A sparrow alights on the rim
        comes to sit in the sun,
        comes to sing
        and chatter
        and tell me,
        the shadow form,
        of other days
        when other sparrows
        came to bathe
        in a pitcher's warm wet water.
        
        Came to stir
        and sip
        and delight
        in my sleepiness
        as the sun stretches
        and the shadow becomes self.



poem copyright ©2000 Anne Selden Annab