Bird’s nest

This is what I saw when grabbing a coat from the closet this morning. I went back and got it out to see more closely and found

2013-12-30 09.16.53the bird’s nest. This shows me more than anything how much I need to slow down and look at things during this time I’ve been given to reflect and to write. There was a bird’s nest on top of the wreath I hang on my porch every spring and fall, the one I only take in for the metal sun ornament I use for deep summer or for the holiday wreath.

2013-12-30 09.17.09The little feathers are a bit ruffled now, but on the closet shelf I saw them as they were, in neat, soft rows. This is such a big thing. How did I miss it?2013-12-30 09.17.22Perhaps it is because I was in a hurry and only looked at the front as I slung it on that shelf, ready to put up the tinsel wreath. I wanted the bright colors out during finals week, a kind of glitter that could guide me through the last weeks of the semester. Maybe.2013-12-30 09.17.33 Maybe I had forgotten how to really look at things or maybe the top of the wreath was above my head. I am short, and I hang things for other people’s eye-level, not my own. Even so, I want to slow down enough that I can see these things again, see the grey feathers up top that show the nest hiding behind the carefully arranged front.

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Author of the poetry collection The Tethered Ground and Professor of English at Missouri State University. Contact me for readings or for workshops on writing/publishing and on teaching writing online.

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