Stephen Fowle

Sandown, the Isle of Wight, UK

Stephen has been writing sporadically since 2014 and is previously unpublished.During lockdown he has found the time and space again to pick up the quill.

Poem finished 16th June 2020

The Sparrow

Outside, the sparrows are calling:

I come to the window.

The birds scatter, except one, 

on the ledge:

a puffy white breast,

a copper-coloured head. 

I watch him balloon,

shiver with sound.

If only he’d allow me

to open the window

without him flying 

his little song away.