Listen to the crow, brilliant in dappled light,
Outrage pulsing to and fro,
With fluff and caw sharp in her eyes,
and reproach a tone of deep forlorn.
My Nest is Empty,
don’t you know?
A twitch of feet and wobbly grit,
Leaves rattling as they part,
The long stretch of yard
bare and grim with bursting heart.
Will he lift his wings just so,
And dip and soar
or hide in hollows dark and dry,
Then burst forth with beak and voice
to rise ever higher in the sky?
Ah, My Child of paths unknown,
Your nest of sticks woven
tight and strong
Spread wings of fluff and
down and song
to reach a tree where you belong!
But come home, little bird,
When the wind is low
and find us on the hunt and pack,
Our feathers bright and dappled torn
with love unbound from nest
And thorn.
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