Hardware Sparrows

Out for a deadbolt, light bulbs

and two-by-fours, I find a flock

of sparrows safe from hawks

and weather under the roof

of Lowe's amazing discount

store. They skitter from the racks

of stockpiled posts and hoses

to a spill of winter birdseed

on the concrete floor. How

they know to forage here,

I can't guess, but the automatic

door is close enough,

and we've had a week

of storms. They are, after all,

ubiquitous, though poor,

their only song an irritating

noise, and yet they soar

to offer, amid hardware, rope

and handyman brochures,

some relief, as if a flurry

of notes from Mozart swirled

from seed to ceiling, entreating

us to set aside our evening

chores and take grace where

we find it, saying it is possible,

even in this month of flood,

blackout and frustration,

to float once more on sheer

survival and the shadowy

bliss we exist to explore.