Sharing Space

Corner of the eye, fine point, “stylus” –

I saw bird shadows, wings, feathered mileage,

flying up to the roof’s corner, the edge.

Why are the Starlings dancing on my ledge?

Shuffling through this House of Cards,

I found the small hole, a discrete hiding

They’re building a nest, Yippee, Hooray!

A Starling yanked at the grass, a shyness

in its movements as it carries

“thread” in its beak back

to the hole to build the nest.

Sounds of Silence;

Otherwise they’ll leave.

So I remain mute

In my ecstasy

 

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