The Best Nest

 I watched the  young

couple scout the neighborhood

looking for the best nest,

flitting here and there;

they landed on the railings

of the toy gazebo decorating

my front porch.

They looked, he tilted his

head at her; she finally approved

and the nest building began,

twig by twig, strand by strand.

The little blue gazebo swung

in the wind, but rain did not

fall on her tiny head as she sat

patiently on her three eggs.

One morning she was gone,

the three tiny eggs had

disappeared; a crow

called out from the tree

across the street, quite

pleased with himself.