The nest lays dormant
cradled by the outstretched palm
of the old maple.
Pieces of straw and thin paper bits
hang down and blow slightly in the breeze.
Last spring, we admired from a safe distance--
teaching her not to disturb
the natural flow of things
so her young egger eyes
could see them grow.
If we had taken them down
put them in a box
they may have lived,
yet never to test
their delicate wings
in a free-fall.
© 2014 d.c.p.
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