The Nest

In the vines by the rear door She built her nest Sat on her little blue green eggs With all her mother care Warmed by her maternal heat Garage doors opened with a clatter Snowbirds unloading winter stuff Frightened, she left the eggs unattended She gradually tolerated humans Walking barely three feet away Her head, beak, peeking out Keeping a watchful eye Then the blessed event Four little squirrelly feather bundles I even helped supply worms Although she never acknowledged This act of inter specie kindness Gentle nudge to the nest The babies instinctively stretched Their scruffy scrawny necks Upwards to be the first to lunch Gawky youngsters All yellow mouths and bills Stretched wide for supper Then they were gone! I'm left with an empty nest syndrome.