While mowing the back yard, a sudden glance
  at something hunched in the garden -
  a baby sparrow, beak in perpetual frown.

All around a storm of noise:
  airplanes, garbage trucks, the warfare of jays.

I go into the house for a drink,
  return to find it stiff on its side 
  as if tipped over, eyes blank as bricks,

A puff of sudden, bewildered life
  blown between squirming eggstuff and flight.