Howard Nemerov (1920-1991)

I've subscribed to 'Poem of the Week' and they just sent this truly beautiful poem. It reminded me of the photo that I took last November. We'd had our first 'hard water' day and the sparrows looked so disconsolate. When I encounter a poem that so perfectly captures the sense of something I wonder how I ever find the nerve to pick up my pen (er, laptop) again.


'Because You Asked About the Line
Between Prose and Poetry'


Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.

There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell

. . . . . .
(Rather lovely, eh?)