Part 1: Charlie

Charlie jumped up---to gain

a better ground view, I presume---

to perch uncertainly on the outer lip

of a back deck's plastic pot

that was meant by its designer

for rooting plants.

The bulbous pot had nothing in it

but weather-moistened dirt, loose sunflower

kernels in their dark charcoal-textured

shells, and thin green seedlings.

The delicate plants were, as

Mother Nature apparently intended,

sprouted from healthy sunflower-seed

strays that had survived haphazard searches

of hungry squirrels, sparrows, doves,

and other birds---for a duration long enough

to take root and begin to grow.

A fickle breeze off and on ruffled a few

of Charlie's gray neck feathers, which

contributed to his already overall mild scruffy

affect.

Charlie, you see, was a subadult sparrow

who could not fly, which for him made

serious problems.

(to be continued in Part 2)