My Birds and Life in General

Two, maybe three, weeks has passed

since Momma bird built the nest,

twigs gathered from beneath the



sprawling sour gum tree in front of my apartment

and strips of hay from the top of freshly sown

seeds of grass over in the next courtyard.



Cozy little nest atop the air conditioner

refuge from those ravenous squirrels

who uproot the mums and pansies I plant.



I watch day after day,

fearful that I might disturb Momma

and the life process, if I, suddenly,



overcome by the torturous heat and humidity

require the breath of cool comforting air,

turn the switch.



Patience is her virtue,

providing warmth for

her coveted trophies



Unlike the frazzled, mustached man

Stroking his devilish goatee on

the trading floor.



She takes all in stride

when I turn the switch

oblivious to the vibrations



wiggling softly, unimpressed,

with the sound and sway

Her duties apparent.



She keeps her watch

like a sailor in the crow's nest.

What iceberg or storm lays await?



Soon. Like the eggs in

my morning skillet

yolks formed



new life blinks at the

strength of morning sun

gingerly raising scrawny, fuzzy necks.



Momma flies off

scratching for food

to nourish her offspring



knowledge that I, yes I,

would protect the twins

With life, as she would.


We made a pact

eye to eye

as she permitted



slipping closer with my camera.

No fear in her eyes,

but gratitude



The tiny clumps of feathers

stood firmly, today,

fluttering cute little wings



preparing for flight

not like the soaring eagle

or majestic hawk



but as morning doves do

ready to leave Momma

the nest and me.



No longer will I track their

lives in my mind's eye.

Today is the last.



Gone and out of my life

The nest remains.

Next year?