The Spring Nest
When I fashioned the wreath
from the willow branch:
decorated it with dried clusters
of pink hydrangea and tiny
sprays of white baby’s breath,
I never imagined it might one day
become a home for you.
When I hung it on the front door to
welcome the spring,
I had no idea that you saw it as
a possible nesting site!
Had you searched long to find it?
Did the lengths of lemon ribbon
waving in the afternoon breeze
attract your attention?
You must have felt that it
would be a safe place to build
your perfectly crafted nest.
Upon returning home each evening,
as I grappled with house keys
the day’s mail and the makings of supper,
I often heard a flutter of wings overhead.
But I thought nothing much of it!
Disturbed by my inelegance,
you must have thought me uncouth.
I was totally unaware of your existence
until the afternoon of the storm
that took us both by surprise!
I, while pulling weeds from the tulip-bed,
got drenched before I had the chance
to seek shelter in the potting shed.
You had little chance to save your
beautifully fragile blue eggs
when the howling wind
completely dislodged the wreath
sending it crashing to the ground.
That’s where I found it
after the storm passed.
Your once perfect little nest
lying damaged in a pool of rainwater.
The pieces of blue shell scattered
between lengths of lemon ribbon.
If only I had known!
Brooklin Town Crier 2009