Sparrows in the Switch Yard

Sparrows in the Switch Yard

My shift concludes at twilight
Mind and body weary from toil
Hair ringed by the hardhat’s band
Steel toed boots weigh each step to my truck.
Machine scrapes, screeches, and clanks
Distorted echoes in the distance
That haunt this desolate place.

Holly heavy with red drupes
Line the lot near the lonesome train yard.
In the bush they can’t be still,
Birds treat branches like a jungle gym.
Sparrows delight in life here
Chirps, twitters, rudimentary song
Many discordant singers.

Battered boxcars want their fill
Cans and newspapers carelessly tossed
Rusty gears pyramid piled
Incongruous with delicate birds.
For no reason, one pops out
And hovers above in the night sky
Haloed by mist and moon glow.

It is perplexing to me
These flying feathered beings of earth
Living amidst ugliness.
What fantastic creatures they would be
Were I to see with new eyes
I whisper softly, “Is your mind free
Or shackled tight by worries,

just like me?”