Look out the kitchen window and
Find a robin and her nest on our windowsill.
She carries baubles and trinkets—candy
Wrappers and foil—before her vivacious
Red breast and weaves them tenderly into her nest.
My mother, laughing, says
She’s dizzy with anticipation, painting ponies
And clouds on nursery walls.
Soon enough little blue eggs fill
The happy twigs and their gaudy trappings
And the robin settles—snug, waiting.
We, too, wait for spring miracles on the
Windowsill. Weeks pass—she sits faithful—but
Eggs remain eggs.
Mother gets an odd pallor and avoids the
Kitchen window. Sometimes I think she wants to
Chase the robin away, but understands she’s dear to us.
We want to give the robin our support—she’s
Like family, now—but wonder how long it
Takes for eggs to hatch. Surely not this long?
“Sometimes things go wrong,”
Mother answers to our curiosity.
That day's morning was so ordinary, routine… Throughout my previous stay at home I quite rarely left the house, I did only short trips to the store or old friends. I live in a small village, and life in it is not very entertaining, but then again, on the other hand, I can finally calm down. It is very good after a long time sp