May 29, 2016 by Rosemerry
The heart is like
this small brown bird
who finds in the lawn
a bit of dead grass
and flies it away
to build her nest—
sometimes it takes
so little to build
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged home, nest, poem, poetry | 3 Comments
Please review mine..
Tried to write on how incomplete i am
Funny you should mention this on the day I had to take down an empty nest from last year in the Russian Olive. I looked into it like staring at an architecture from some ancient civilization. Lovely.
Something so darn magical about nests. Ancient architecture.
From: “email@example.com” Reply-To: Date: Sunday, May 29, 2016 at 7:11 PM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “Scrounge and Comb”
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