The Rolling Thunders of a Summer’s Empty Nest
So this happened yesterday, I noticed it all too quietly,
Cocked head I listened, and attuned to the raucous silence
Our house wrens both had gone!
Ago, the slack-water of Spring’s ebbing into summer
Brought in the pair of wee wrens come to claim stake of my rental
The male stuffed with twigs all three of my hand made nest boxes
No fear of no bears within this little brown Goldilocks, oh no
The female finally settling in the big one on the garage
Then singing singing singing, a veritable two bird Woodstock
Until next about two weeks in a coarser chatter began
Harping like a New Years party ratchet, chat chit chit ...
Intending to warn me away, mostly from the female
Henpecking her mate to stand his ground with me, pick a fight!
And I who put up that nest box too!
That chatter in latter days the only sound that either made
Until third voices, fae faerie twinkles deep within the box
Told me me warm summers brood patch had worked it’s magic in their nest
I long for that month, six weeks even maybe while they cheered me
Or as rude neighbors will, forbade me checking in on their brood
Until today of a sudden,
what’s wrong?
Echos the rolling thunders of an empty summer’s nest
Summer’s heat bereft of chatter, long flown cool cheerful songs
No tails flicking on the runner string bean trellis.
No little grubs in beaks tweaking on back step rails
Cantankerous little cuties
If you see ‘em, tell ‘em I miss 'em.
