From my window I can see,
Sparrows moving constantly…
In a wall of cinder block
Their nest is firmly locked,
Feeding their brood in daylight constantly.
Custodians shoo them out each year,
After the second brood appears…
Who has the heart
To break apart,
An activity that brings so many cheer?
Once-in-a-while they will clean
Bird “doo” away from the scene…
But won’t disturb
This bird suburb,
Til the second clutch is on the wing.