Friday, March 19, 2010

Two Wrens

Two wrens on my windowsill
plainly looking in
scouting for that place to safely
put their wren eggs in
peering at the far left corner
where the day before they'd been
a ready-made perfect nest
for two ready to begin

Through an open door they'd flown
while hoping me a friend
and they found a crafted basket
hung near the trash bin
landed on it poked around
and found nothing to offend
flung debris down to the floor
in their natural whirl-wren
then flew out the way they'd come
expecting to return again

They'd been there once before
at least had one of them when
I'd emerged into the room
much like a bear into its den
I didn't know it was around
until it started to ascend
to a window then the ceiling
as its path did amend
till it found the open doorway
having foiled an apprehend

That debris on the floor
from its nest-exploring stint
included dollar bills that fluttered
and two-dollar ones that went
some collected by my mother
with a hope and a glint
for a future she'd not know
but for a time heaven-sent

Besides the money I had hidden
like a charm to intend
to increase my wealth and income
by some multiple of ten
there were a dozen birds' feathers
one caught floating on the wind
and the gossamer wisp
of a snake's shed skin
a young deer's right antler
with its leftward bent
a desiccated black beetle
with its pincers unpinced
and some gemstones with some meaning
that had once made sense
and one feather from a heron
that seemed suited for a prince

There were fortunes from some cookies
with a mystical hint
other memories you could touch
soft fur that was meant
to remind me forever
of a cat who seemed sent
from the soul of a city
that needs to repent
this orange fur so soft
yet the city so bent
that it would kill this kitty
to avoid the shelter's rent
with its heart so hard
love's hardly made a dent
well this kitty's passed now
I think I know where he went
someday this town's heart will heal
with compassion as its stent

two wrens on my windowsill
clearly looking in
wondering where has gone the nest
to lay their wren eggs in
it was there just yesterday
their presence they had lent
poking round the crafted basket
hung near the trash bin

just turn around you dear little
busy hopping happy wrens
you'll see it hangs right behind you
by the deck among the limbs
where you can perch and keep watch
and understand it never ends
all your love and your labor
and your care it imprints
and lives on and multiplies
in your absence
in the nest that you found
and improved and did amend
so that you'll never have to be
on the outside looking in

two wrens on my window sill
is where it all begins
with two wrens on my window sill
is where my story ends
with two wrens on my window sill
I'll always have two friends
with two wrens on my window sill

Larry Piltz
Indian Cove
Austin, Texas

A true story from St. Patrick's Day 2008

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