Posts Tagged ‘nest’




the only thing

that matters

is the wound—

from a dark nest

comes gold

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One for the Wounded



how fragile you are—

I make my body

into a nest



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Scrounge and Comb

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

something beautiful.

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I find a deserted nest
just big enough to carry
in one hand—
it is beautiful, this emptiness,
so beautiful I want to hold it.

Somewhere else, a great migration.
I cradle the wreath of dried grass.
It is another kind of journey
to stay.

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inspired by The Nest by Teddy Macker

Teach me, world, to weave
a nest with whatever scraps I find—
sticks, dry grass, old thread,
twine, barbed wire, plastic bags,
the sad headlines of war. Teach
me to make a haven out of mud
and shit and thistle down, a cozy
space, just room enough, no more.
And then, though I’ll grow comfortable,
teach me to fly away from whatever
comfort I’ve made—not because
I think I’m going somewhere better,
but because there is a rising
in the blood that says go. Teach
me to take nothing but my song
and the silence inside each note.

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At the Same Time

One hand weaves new threads
into the nest, the other
slowly pulls them out

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Above the deep river
on the slenderest branch—
a nest.

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