No More Than a Sparrow

No more than a sparrow, am I
numbered among the ordinary;
brightly I sing, though inwardly shy
of people and shadows I am wary.

Numbered among the ordinary
I flit about virtually unseen –
of people and shadows I am wary,
head down I carry out my routine.

I flit about virtually unseen,
require little to make me content;
head down I carry out my routine
forage between furrow and cement.

Require little to make me content,
brightly I sing though inwardly shy,
forage between furrow and cement,
no more than a sparrow, am I.

(dVerse’s form of the month is the Pantoum.  Image is from my own collection.)

 

33 comments

  1. “Numbered among the ordinary
    I flit about virtually unseen –”
    This is a great line that speaks to me. Sometimes the most beautiful things don’t ask for attention, and it is perhaps this very trait that makes them beautiful. Beauty in simplicity, and meaningfulness through being mundane. A very lovely poem.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. You have done a wonderful character study, VJ. I agree with the number 26, about the beauty in the ordinary. Every thing has its place and its nature in this thing called life. To see a thing go about its nature is beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sparrows and pantoums go together well, V.J. I love the way they flit, as they have in your pantoum, from stanza to stanza. By the way, I’ve just spotted four magpies in our garden!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. ‘no more than a sparrow’ – but sparrows are amazing, at one with their surroundings, their beauty no less for their useful camouflage. 😉

    lovely poem, anything but ordinary.

    Liked by 1 person

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