The Nest Builder

The country bird waits alone,

in a bed of sticks and dirt.

Using his chirpy voice

he keens with

slow and level bird calls.

He knows and trusts

that his city bird

will come back,



As the seasons pass

he begins

to develop,

a nagging cough,

just like his city bird lover.


But still he keens

quicker and less level,

waiting no longer,

but needing and wishing

for his mate to return.


Thrice hourly

he plumps his nest sticks

and adds spit to the lose ends.

It needs to be ready in time,

it needs to.


To make it easier,

for further finishing touches,

he moves his nest

to ground level.

His cough is worsening.


The insects

are crawling over their predator.

The bird is rising,

he sees his mate

and rises off

through the last sunset.

One thought on “The Nest Builder

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