Sparrows drinking water cooled by night hours and shining with gasoline runoff. A pothole gathering for the tired merry, grateful to have found a potion to ease the aching of their flappings. How sweet and small, ticklish with purity, are these sparrows lapping, humble and guttural with desperation. Cars blaring, dispersing these delicate aspirations, but they soon again flock to round the jagged crater. Such attracting vibrancy, this rainbow runoff of death.
Great poem and beautiful images