A moment before the sparrow rustles its feathers and scatters into the wind
You take back your offer.
A breathless hope against retreat becomes a silent plea
an aching glance to search for eyes that do not meet my own yet
sense my humanity
A dashed dream: your delicate talons dancing upon dead leaves toward me
But you withdraw,
your twitching wings threatening,
my heart snapping like twigs underfoot as I inch
Two steps forward, then a thousand flaps away
to touch the silky sheen
or polished, pointed
as the boundary I crossed.