Omens

Watermelon cubes
filled up the plastic cup

that was advertised as sangria
watermelon cubes with dots of blueberries

most of the cubes you spit at
crows and passing cars,

the pattern of the seeds warns us,
oncoming rain showers

gray and blue drops catch on
his curled eyelashes, they look so long

we make a break for it, find shelter
under an abandoned ticket station

the tin roof applauds our escape
from the summer shower

we wait for the drops to pass and
watch as a crow pecks at a sparrow

until the sparrow and the shower both
stop rattling. The crow carries

the limp sparrow into high branches
of a nearby tree, then flies away.

 
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