Single Motherhood
Sept 1 2025
She nested in the awning
outside my bedroom window,
protected
beneath the fabric’s faded stripes.
The cooing and fluttering
even before the sun
could rub the sleep from its eyes.
The fledglings
squealing for food
most of the time.
And the canvas
on its badly seized struts
flapping in a summer wind.
Needless to say
I slept poorly those few months.
If I could, would have evicted that infernal bird.
There I was
an unwilling landlord,
a roommate
forced to share.
A nature lover
who’d begun to regret the affair.
And an old curmudgeon
against motherhood
and all that’s good.
But I must admit
she was exemplary
in caring for her chicks.
While the absentee father never appeared;
a problem, we know
not just for birds.
The awning’s long gone.
The house has had some work
and is no longer home,
perhaps
no longer there.
As for me, I’ve caught up on sleep
and learned to be more forgiving
after all these years.
And in the outskirts of the city
where I was born and raised,
generations of birds
have followed
flourished
given birth.
So now, a man of a certain age
and an actual curmudgeon
I will allow,
she was a good mother
and nested well.
No comments:
Post a Comment