Branches are bare
but the nest is still there
and Blackbird remembers it well.
It seems so long
since his last spring song
as he watched the leafbuds swell.
Today he takes time
to recall those sublime
little moments of feathery bliss.
He forgets the fatigue
of filling each beak,
just the touch of each gaping kiss.
And soon he will yearn
for the season's turn
with a will to restore the nest,
while his mate will assist
bringing twigs to twist
with moss for their newlaid eggs.
© Celia Warren 2021
I'm pretty sure this is a blackbird's nest, though of course I can't be sure if this blackbird was a former resident or parent. Later in the day, a woodpigeon was perching on it. But I'm sure it's not a pigeon's nest. The sight inspired my first poem of 2021.