Sparrow And Moon

This time of month, just days after full Moon,
I start trying to get outside early
because now the Moon’s a morning object,
waning, becoming a thinner crescent
every morning before disappearing
in the rising Sun and starting again.

Yesterday morning or the day before
the dawn was kind of ochre in the east
and billowing, mountainous clouds out west
were purple-bottomed but orange on top,
so high in the atmosphere that they caught
the first rays of sunlight although the Sun
was still somewhere below the horizon.

The Moon was in the southern sky, orange,
also reflecting Sun, but less intense
somewhere in the distance beyond the clouds.

Even by eye, without binoculars,
I could see the shadow line on the Moon,
the lunar terminator, was starting
to engulf the Sea of Serenity,
starting its trip across the lunar face
that would end darkening the Sea of Clouds.

When my back door opened and then banged shut
and I walked into the damp, morning grass
a dozen sparrows took flight from the lawn.
Most flew to the tree across the alley.
But two sparrows, chirping loudly, circled
and flew back and forth, bumping each other,
keeping up a constant chirping chatter
as they wheeled in the air above my yard.

Then one of the two chattering sparrows
broke away, flapped higher, then higher still.
Both were silent now. The other sparrow
flew straight to the tree across the alley.

The first sparrow continued to fly up,
becoming smaller as it neared the Moon,
flapping constantly as it disappeared
into the blue sky and orange moonlight.

I thought, I wonder where that bird’s going?
I wonder if that little sparrow thinks
it can flap its wings and fly to the Moon?

Then again, come to think of it, I thought,
if that bird thinks it can fly to the Moon
that makes it a more interesting bird
than any of those birds perched in the tree.

But I reminded myself this is me
thinking a delusional bird is cool . . .