You don’t really see me,
Sitting on my nest
In the dead Juniper tree.
Protecting my almost fully feathered
Progeny.
Nor do you see my mate,
Hidden as he is on the branch behind me.
Still as a statue,
Standing guard,
Wondering if you are here to hurt us.
You don’t really see us.
Why not leave us alone?
There are a few drops of wine in your glass.
Finish them.
Then take one more picture.
For come morning,
We might have taken flight.
Or we can play this game all night.
July 25, 2013 at 11:32 pm
I did indeed. This Spring before the tree’s odd demise Beth Baker this nest was home to a robin, who tried in vain to raise two broods by herself…only to suffer her eggs being eaten. Now a pair of doves (?) have taken over the nest. Clearly being bird married is better for children!
July 25, 2013 at 11:59 pm
They are mourning doves (aka turtledoves).
July 26, 2013 at 12:27 am
Jodi Kaplan don’t these birds mate for a very long time? And isn’t there some famous song written for them…that, of course, I can’t remember at the moment????
July 26, 2013 at 1:12 am
Emma’s favorite bird species. Always in pairs Giselle Minoli In Mexican tradition, VERY good luck.
July 26, 2013 at 1:14 am
Seriously Jack C Crawford? Good luck from their presence? From seeing them? from there being two chicks in the nest? Or all three???
July 26, 2013 at 1:20 am
All three. But it’s a bonus when you have a pair.
July 26, 2013 at 1:40 am
I didn’t read a poem today
I didn’t write one either
I didn’t imagine
A poet who didn’t see
A bird who wished not
I also didn’t plus one
Nor reply on social media
July 26, 2013 at 1:57 am
Juniper beers and a bird?
July 26, 2013 at 4:55 am
Woken up at one am to pee…
And +1 a comment.
But you don’t really see it do you
T. Pascal?
Hmmm…
Must be all that wine.
July 26, 2013 at 9:54 am
Giselle Minoli, belly laughed at the one AM comment.
July 26, 2013 at 2:07 pm
Indeed Beth Baker it’s that slit eye giveaway isn’t it? They are very stately creatures. I rather like a bird with such confidence it doesn’t go flying off and squawking like a maniac (like robins) at the slightest human curiosity, which of course telecasts their presence to predators. Not so the Turtle Dove. Quiet. Still. Watching. Brooding. As a Mom and Pop should do. This one did leave the nest after I’d sat there for an hour, perhaps sensing I was harmless. Left two chicks. Also quite, still, watching. Their parents taught them well.