What my Friend Said, Sick with Cancer

What my Friend Said, Sick with Cancer
Glenn Wallis

When I see the sparrow,
His little wings spanned
In fear to flee the storm cloud,
Borne in fear before a blackening sky,
Frantically seeking shelter,
Then does the street outside my window give me
Peace. Who would not delight to see along its concrete
Curb stately elm trees in magnificent array?
In the yard, bared to the bawdy earth that hugs
The fading willow, a chirring cricket,
Well rid of its winged foe, proclaims:
Now is not the time to bound from this
Place. Sweet is this place. Such bounty does it bring.
Here it is good to be.

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