“Spring Shadow” by Mahlon Banda

Where oh where is my sparrow?
Who bounced on the naked tree,
Flirting with the nascent sun,
That refuses to show its golden flames.

The sun is not yet prepared to engrave
The solid oaken silhouette,
She refuses to burn it into cement, stone, or passerby.

I must squint to keep sight of you,
My red-bellied black spider of a bird,
Alighting and lighting —
You flick a pointy wing,
hop on miniature piston legs,
Pounce like a tiny lioness — landing on some invisible insect.

I do not see the life you find,
Only soda straws of naked twigs,
Making patterns against the sky —
Tiny geometric mazes of emptiness,
Delicate carvings on a neglected mosque,
Decorated, yet devoid of the image of life,
Because life is anathema —
To depict it is profane.

I loathe this season of bright blue deathly skies,
Acute cold angles that fracture all illusion and compassion.
Cruel skies despicable and precise,
They void the possibility of magic,
They wager against hope.
Where has my sparrow gone?

It has disappeared.
Perhaps the light knocked it dead out of the sky?
All I see is a stretched shadow,
The shape of things to come — covering an entire city block,
A black cardboard cutout,
It casts a shadow like a huge unfriendly spaceship,
Of wings taken flight —
In the direction of Spring.

finis

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Mahlon Banda is a poet with an MFA in Creative Writing from The New School.