The Bird's Nest

I wrote this poem for Gather, a Spring Challenge -- a contest hosted by some of the regulars in the Poets' Hangout. The challenge was to pen a poem with the words "anything but spring" included within. This is what I came up with ~ Seanathon.

The Bird's Nest

I wonder if she watched when we tore the thin stems
to lay our golden paths beneath those green-swathed limbs
or felt them tremble when we climbed high toward her
knowing the ruin our curious hands could soon sow:
twigs, grass, mud and bits of blue broken far below.

You cried. We tried to put it together again
though the alchemy failed neither of us knew then
what had faded between us on that bright spring morn
or how long it would take to comprehend how time
couldn't heal the damage done during that doomed climb.

In summer signs whispered you were going away,
we talked of anything but spring on our last day.
Years passed. I'm not sure who sent the final letter
or what I said if we ever talked on the phone
but I watched yesterday as they tore down your home.

Beneath autumn's golden leaves I see where it fell
while memory's body fades like broken blue shells.
Sometimes late at night I imagine our children
meeting underneath our tree and I wonder then
if they could put the bird's nest together again.