Freedom
I am sat next to the window,
My world is only what is within reach
Of the ugly chair.
The irregular stone wall of the bathroom,
The waste pipe from the cistern,
The bird box which has been found wanting.
And a view of the industrial unit
I am visited by a male sparrow
There’s only one of him, I know.
His right wing with a willful deformity;
Two feathers perpendicular in perpetuity,
His dark chest patch missing symmetry.
He has a predilection for sideways sliding
On his playground of black gloss painted fascia.
Sometimes, like now, he whisks his feathers,
Creates of himself a fluffy meringue
Which softly settles into sleekness;
A diminution.
While inside my room there are reminders and relics
My teddy bear is approaching fifty.
As am I.
