Nest Building
A soft brown wren pecks for tiny seeds
strewn from yesterday’s weeding.
On closer look I see
she collects not seeds but tiny dried grass -
slight as a thought.
A beak full of bristling grass,
mustachioed she tilts her head,
making me laugh.
Then she lifts off, flies west toward home
to line her silky nest.
April 24, 2011
2 comments:
Sweet one! "Slight as a thought"; now THAT'S thinking like a poet!
Thanks!
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