We Are the Nest

There is a nest, now unused,
since the broken blows of winter
evacuated the inhabitants.

The tree holds no vegetation
nor decoration
besides this nest,
sodden, wet and cold.

‘Is it reasonable to call myself
a nest?’
I asked.
‘It’s certainly winter.’
the world replied to an unasked question.

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2 thoughts on “We Are the Nest

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