Little Sparrow

In a nest, cradled by the pulse of his mother's heartbeat,
his mind races like firecrackers and rainbows,
and he clings to the thought that he's
a bigger man that he'll ever really be.

(he clings to the thought, he does.)

His brothers are monstrous; the chirps of a lion's roar,
and it takes him all his might and gut,
breaking through his infant frame,
to halt the rapid flutter of feathers.

He breathes,

only in his dreams,
can he be a better man.