Coming of Age
Outside my office tree house, the once-huge robin’s nest seems crowded, small. Three growing babies fluff their wings, itching to fly, it seems. But still, they cuddle to mother’s soft sunset-red breast.
ready to be free,
still gaping beaks, huddling close,
teenage robins wait
Linked to dVerse Quadrille Monday. The word to include is itch. The poem, excluding title, calls for exactly 44 words. I am getting nothing done these days watching this wondrous process of nesting, birthing, nurturing and, soon, fledging.
Happy Anniversary, 7 years, to dVerse. It’s been a great ride.