It's quiet in the courtyard

The wind isn't speaking today.
Clouds have patched-up the sky.
It is not a day of finding-out things.

But it is the day 
a single sparrow took up the space 
of the no-birds,
when I felt one brush of sunlight
on my neck and it felt Spring-kind
from a long time ago.

And I wrote letters into tomorrow's hands;
empty is an invite 
to place a beautiful word
facing outwards.