You think your life is one story
Until: spring again, and sirens – Harlem's –
A background to lovers
On their way home – you and me –
And the larger city's corresponding
Sparrows not explaining but compelling
You – me – to ask:
What is happening? What do I love? And who?
And how do these sirens –
(To be clear: This is our home)
Query our right to cross 8th Avenue
Tonight, and do they,
The sirens, prevent me –
– Us – from being able
To answer
The question in each blossom —
Your heart is a blossom –
In each sparrow’s eye?
