The bluebird's cold mistimed egg
fetched up from the one-legged
box after the pair had left for
points south & unknown (never,
as it turned out, to return) I
renested in the half-geode by
the windowsill where it gleamed
&, months becoming years, seemed
about to last forever, grow more
consistent with itself, holding its pure
blue firmament up over what by now
was nothing, till one January day, snow
melting to a fast flood,
I blew it softly onto my palm so I could
hold its cerulean up against new sky,
home against home, where it lay
weightless & delicate as the Xmas ornament
we'd just put away, but when I went
to roll it gently back onto its bed,
& leave it there, I saw a thread,
a crack, another, watched it sink in
slowly on itself, shard on shard collapsing
from my touch & breath, relaxing
into the shape of its absence.
17 comments:
Nice poem!
Is the bird nest near your home? Those blue eggs are precious. Do you see the parents very often?
Hi Lizzy,
Are the eggs really that blue colour? So delicate looking.
In the poem did the egg last without going bad and dessicate do you think?
It is a good last line.
Happy days
Dakota, I see Eastern bluebirds on our golf course every day, but this is a photo from online. The link is below the photo.
Delwyn, yes the eggs are that blue. I think the egg was so dried and fragile that it cracked & fell in on itself probably from the gentle touch & breath of the person who held it. I think the inside desiccated or dehydrated and the outside basically decomposed or lost its structural integrity. It is a melancholy poem. Sweet & sad. The little egg left behind because it was laid too late in the season.
Lizzy: Very wonderful poem. Namaste.
Pretty blue eggs in the picture.
Such a sad poem about an egg lost forever. But that is the cycle of life I guess. I wonder how the mom and dad birds felt to leave the egg behind or if they really understand what happens and why. And at the same time it is a beautiful poem.
God bless.
great poem. fragileness of life. pretty pic!
Lizzy - what a beautiful poem.
Are Eastern bluebirds as beautiful as their eggs?
Darling Lizzy thank you for the most wonderful comment on my blog. It means a lot to me.
Up up and away.
love Renee xoxo
Indeed the Eastern bluebird is even more beautiful. It has a deeper, brighter blue color & flits amongst the leaves of the oak trees.
Great poem, and kinda sad.
So beautiful. I remember finding these shells as a girl after the birds had flown.
I love that lovely shade of blue. Amazing aren't they?
i've only seen bluebids once, 2 years ago when they nested in my yard... they are rare here.
blue eggs by the bluebird!
'Never heard of Mr Swann! What a fine word-Artist!
........from my touch & breath, relaxing
into the shape of
its absence.........
BEAUTY.
Lizzy.Have A Peaceful Easter.Best Wishes Tony.
[n.b. my word verification for this comment is "elate"!!!!]
wonderful poem & beautiful photo of the pale blue eggs.
I like that one.
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