Wayward

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.

~Becky Robbins

Photo: "Black-Capped Chickadee", Paris, Maine by Becky Robbins.