Curtis Harrell

Freeing the Sparrow 
 

Until this moment

He has never been

Seen as clearly

As he is now.

 

His daughter watches

From the green tangle

Inside the garden

As hand over hand

Through the ripped

Tomato netting

He works toward

The sparrow’s wary eye.

 

The small round world

Holds steady

Despite the beating

Of the tangled wings;

His daughter

Holds the moment

Under her breath.

 

He struggles

To hold this

Moment, too small

Almost to fit

In his hand;

He unwinds, carefully,

Braided green cotton

From dun feather,

Knotted mesh frayed

From tiny hollow talon,

The world’s tangle

From his child’s hope.

 

At last!

Raised gently skyward,

The sparrow’s quick wings

Mix up the air;

The moment fixed,

His daughter turns

Back toward the world;

The father turns

Also, untangled

From his daughter’s stare.