Pieces of the oak
break off and fly away
they come to my feeder
and I watch them blink
and ruffle and hop.
If I go to the woods
and build a nest
of twigs and milkweed fluff
wouldn’t that be holy?
Between lies and distractions
small hands reach
for higher branches
returning home the wayward
pieces of the oak.
pieces of the oak.
~Becky Robbins
Photo: "Black-Capped Chickadee", Paris, Maine by Becky Robbins.
Photo: "Black-Capped Chickadee", Paris, Maine by Becky Robbins.
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