Nest

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by Marianne Boruch







I walked out, and the nest
was already there by the step. Woven basket
of a saint
sent back to life as a bird
who proceeded to make
a mess of things. Wind
right through it, and any eggs
long vanished. But it my hand it was
intricate pleasure, even the thorny reeds
softened in the weave. And the fading
leaf mold, hardly
itself anymore, merely a trick
of light, if light
can be tricked. Deep in a life
is another life. I walked out, the nest
already by the step.


please note: photo by DarlingBridget from Homespun Bliss Blog

Comments

  1. AnonymousJanuary 30, 2013 at 7:05 PM

    love this, did you keep it? When I find them I will add to plants trees and bushes nearby. I love birds nests

    ReplyDelete
  2. UnknownFebruary 2, 2013 at 11:12 AM

    lovely words, imagery.....smiles

    ReplyDelete

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