Plush dark…

Through this obscurity,

slowly, the forearm arcs

& scythes,

wrist rotating outward

in sinuous motion until

the palm cups skyward

(gibbous moon gesture)

& fingertips, at length,

draw into line the nest…

A compact bird’s nest,

expertly woven of twigs

& grass & random fibers,

its hollow delicately lined

& not-quite-wholly-filled…

At rest within its center,

a singular egg of pale blue

uncrack’d,

intact.

Two hollows,

full of expectation….

Empty hand & nest…

— C.Birde, 12/21