Traffic Nest

Twig fell down before my eyes – Not a tree in sight. As I glanced up to the skies I caught a bird in flight… Heading to its nest below A traffic light suspended, Where its babies might just grow, So easily defended. I wonder if the nestlings hear The changing colors clicking And if it’s comfort more than fear Within their brains that’s sticking. If so, those birds will always calm When traffic lights do change, An urban dose of soothing balm Observers might find strange.