A handful of tossed sparrows tussle over a slice of discarded bread
fierce with fluttering and fluffed feathers.
One looking sillier, scream-peeping, open beaked and raising tiny threatening talons.
Sparrows pose like hawks and eagles, strutting to survive
oblivious to sounds, swirling above.
It's all in the prespective.
The birds struggles unseen, under a bench of teenage schoolgirls
in colorful flowing clothing, argue with unfamilar tongues.
Coughing caustic chaotic words, that could be curses.
Sparring about having waited in line for the latest cell phone
or the last loaf of bread.
While a world could care less, but a poet walks by.