Sally, the sparrow

Ashen grey, the old sparrow spreads her wings and releases the gnarled sycamore branch from which she is perched upon. Airborne, she struggles to rise higher. Finally, she catches a zephyr and gradually floats beyond the silken stratus clouds above the tired Rocky mountains. She sees with wizened eyes a vast landscape of lush greens and muddied browns, home to her ancestors. Old nests cling wistfully to the treetops. Years ago, when she was young she would warble an enchanted tune to elevate the spirits of her flock. Now the old bird has difficulty producing so much as a gentle squock. Yet she flies onward into the blue in search for her final resting place by the sea. 


Dedictated to Sally -
We will miss you