Nesting

By adulthood, I was let loose—

a plumed thing, ready to wander

the world or anywhere I’d not known.

 

Fight or flight or tired of fighting,

I flew not far but away. Then, rumors:

whispered into the air like birds,

attempting to mimic my journey.

 

Their path unknown, I waited until

they found ears in which to nest.

 

 

Media Attributions

  • Art by Abigail Workman