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.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged emptiness, nest, poem, poetry, staying on March 8, 2015| 2 Comments »
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.