Welcome to Wounded Sparrow

A cross-Atlantic collaboration between American Poet, Donna Fitzgerald and British Artist, Pete Gorrell.

Iron Horses Farm

By Donna Fitzgerald The vampire is in the living room With the chain-smoking Self-promoting babysitter The priest sweeps the ashes with a broom The tempest is in the teapot And she getting bitter The doctor has no remedy for doom The nurse holds the basin To catch all... read more

Butterflies in a Jar

By Donna Fitzgerald Waiting for the muse to wake me On the morning after Looking for a lucky break In the peeling plaster Listening for the sounds of music Drafty olden rafters Hissing steam of radiators Great creator’s master. Laughter rising from the children... read more

Cave Paintings

By Donna Fitzgerald A glorious voice In the void of the white noise In a whispery, willowy way An ancient chorus From the Black Forest Panting Chanting translations of cryptic scrawling And chalk drawings from the walls of a cave Striking a chord deep within the core... read more

Insults for Candy

By Donna Fitzgerald Engineer of a model train ‘neath an evergreen ever slain In celebration of the pain And all the ghosts of Christmas Multi-colored blinking lights any town’s electric eyes Search the branches for the skies In hope of Father Christmas Monolith of... read more

Crows Back In Kansas

By Donna Fitzgerald I’ve held good memories In one hand while the other hand Was tied behind my back I’ve breathed the secrets deep within The walls about to crack I’ve felt the pull The compass spin While history pulled me back I thought I would crawl the trail you... read more

The Ghost of Nicholas Berg

By Donna Fitzgerald I sip my tea from a flea Market find Stoneware depicting an old barn sign Farm hand stacking wheat A place I have seen A Commonwealth, common wealth Sense of self I dip my toast They boast And defame the good old American name In the same Chamber... read more

Iron Horses Farm

By Donna Fitzgerald The vampire is in the living room With the chain-smoking Self-promoting babysitter The priest sweeps the ashes with a broom The tempest is in the teapot And she getting bitter The doctor has no remedy for doom The nurse holds the basin To catch all... read more

Right as Rain

By Donna Fitzgerald The rain isn’t red They tell me it’s all in my head And the sky isn’t azure blue The sun doesn’t shine for most of the time And the weatherman doesn’t have a clue Rain on the window Brings the black and green scarecrow With a word from the other... read more