Nest
Consider
this pouch of air,
thatch of cloud,
tightly woven against a sky
loosely strung.
This swirl of wind
is threaded to miracles.
In this scoop of heaven,
time coddles echoes,
joggle of eggs,
shuffle of fledglings,
in its emptiness
an inner life
almost remembered –
a straw, a bird,
making weather against the storms.
Jan FitzGerald