Eggs stare back at me, distinct blue, like piercing eyes through
the forest undergrowth. The nest begs for help. To get back
where it belongs. To get back to what it is becoming. Out by the
cattails, a red-winged blackbird reminds me,
“Plant your garden seed.” There is still so much to do to ensure
proper nurturing. I’m hungry for what’s to come. It’s almost lunch
when the goldfinch passes over. “Po-ta-to-chip.” Naturally,
the reminders of all the days still require threaten to overwhelm as dusk,
like a beacon to home, calls for my attention.
But then, the barred owl begs the question:
“Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?”
Someone takes care of me always.
The helpless blue has my full attention. With the fallen nest secured,
I walk home. The door opens where I’m greeted
by blue eyes.
Elizabeth Bates is a Best of the Net and Pushcart-nominated writer living in Washington state with her family. She is the author of poetry chapbook, Mosaics & Mirages (Fahmidan Publishing & Co., 2022). Twitter: @ElizabethKBates