We have lived in this small house for three years;
On this nondescript California street,
Birds nest in the awnings every April,
Twice now in the front and once in the back.
The cat trills through the dirty bay window,
As feathered builders shape a dwelling of
Twigs and spider silk, and old gum wrappers,
A refuge for new life and family formed.
I see yogurt print smudges on the fridge,
Three pairs of worn gym shoes scattered about,
A sticky kitchen counter strewn with mail,
Our claw-shredded and fur-covered couches.
Each year, my heart will hope for a new nest,
In these awnings, expanding bit by bit,
To form a laurel, a shining halo,
And crown in true glory our happy home,
A refuge for new life and family formed.
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I really like the descriptive language in your poem. I also like how you compared the imagery and clutter of a bird’s nest with its various items, to your own home. Awesome poem!
Thank you so much. I appreciate your feedback!