The Sparrow to My Penguin
I am a penguin, small and stuffed,
soft to the touch.
My toy feathers are jet black and
I have a tangerine-colored beak with
Bright round eyes
That see just about
everything.
Every morning I sit on the windowsill,
Waiting and watching
for the sun.
This is lonely business,
But it’s worth seeing
The bright orange disc
Rise flaming, above the
horizon.
A secret between you and me:
This never gets old.
The marvels of each day are small
and many.
Sometimes I sip tiny mugs of coffee,
Other times, I eat little delicious pieces of
pickled herring.
After all, that’s just what
Penguins like me
do.
People give me gifts.
Occasionally I get little peanuts
Wrapped in pink bows around
my neck.
If I'm lucky, I get chocolates,
Wrapped in bright colorful tinfoil.
Even though I am very small, easily fitting
Into the palm of a human hand,
It is plain to see
I am loved.
One day, a Sparrow, small and light and curious,
Eyes a blend of three different colors,
(brown and blue and green)
(I can still never tell which)
Came pecking upon the glass.
It took a little bit of effort,
For I have small arms and the window
seemed so very heavy
But I was able to let her in.
At first she chirped at me nervously,
You know, like sweet little birds do,
Singing me songs, flitting about,
Until she finally came closer.
I shared a tiny mug of coffee
And sweet crumbs of cookies.
(we all know
sparrows don’t eat
pickled herring)
Somehow after a few mornings
She just sort of nestled
Against my soft black feathers.
We watch the sun come up together
On most days
now.
She might be a Sparrow,
And I might be a Penguin,
But we both like the way
The sun comes up flaming
over the
horizon.
Maybe someday, I will show her
how to swim
And maybe someday she will show me
how to fly.
For now, though, we have coffee,
And a very nice windowsill to perch on.
There’s nothing better than
A hot drink and the company
Of a beautiful Sparrow
To start the day off
right.