today, there is no grand funeral <br />like that of the death of <br />a statesman <br /> <br />or that simple funeral fit for <br />a laborer in the world of <br />mankind, <br /> <br />the mother sparrow grieves over <br />the death of her fledgling <br /> <br />there is no burial <br />they do not know what are white flowers <br />their meaning <br /> <br />the torn wings are carried by the worker-ants <br />some useless feathers are left above a sand mound <br /> <br />soon there are skeletons of frail bones <br />baked throughout the year by the sun <br /> <br />soon only dusts <br />the mother sparrow as we knew it from science <br />does not keep a memory <br /> <br />they keep on their far journey <br />nest from nest to nest on those seasons<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mother-sparrow-grieves-upon-the-untimely-death-of-her-beloved-fledgling/
