Tamara Willems

the very nature of things…

This morning,
I’m thinking about the transition
from
soup to salad
then back again
spring weather being what it is
another cool wet start
grey clouds with small surprising breaks
of bright
light

first thing the only digits that will move
on sore hands
are
thumbs
everything else is curled in
tight

eventually I am able to move,
four out of five
on each hand, while only two out of ten
are actually straight
-ish,
but this
will have to do
(makes typing a particular challenge though)

it’s been a busy couple of weeks, so today
I am relishing a day off
to rest all manner of
crooked things

this morning lovely husband quite drastically
cuts back
an over-grown, sadly misshapen shrub
in front of the house
and although this
is kind of a necessary thing
ack! the exposure to the street and the neighbours
is awfully harsh
especially to those of us, who value privacy
greatly

another bit of harshness this week,
I’ve been keeping close watch on the robin,
whose nest sits
tucked in by the window on the stairs
at the weekend on my way up
I peeked out to see the robin, wings spread wide
like an umbrella over the nest
protecting its contents from cold April showers
and think to myself, how very lovely

later, I watched as it appeared
she was feeding
offspring
all I could see was a small bit of pink
and wispy white fluff
but movement, nonetheless

on Monday no robin, no sight of pink
only then to discover on my way down
the tiny, tiny body
of a wee baby, ungraciously deposited
exposed
on the front porch
someone, it appears, had been raiding
I scowl at the starlings, I had witnessed bothering
and shake a fist
a bit of sad disappointment
on the cruelties of nature

and so, at least for now
the nest sits
empty

still, a small work of art

the benefits of course, to all these showers
are that everywhere, everything is beautifully
thickening up, greening and bursting forth
in the true glory of spring
I’ve been particularly enamoured
by the light of the late day sun
on the back fence

the shadows of which appear
as birds and butterflies
of hope
and gladly let us in on the secret
that the trees

are holding hands

and how lovely it is
to find great comfort
in knowing

this ♥

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