Mama Robin And The Friendship Of Trusting Souls

We never intended to be friends.

I was fascinated by your nest, your eggs, your young.

You chirped you disapproval from an acceptable distance.

Until the day you had no more.

You would dive bomb my head.

It started at three feet from your nest and moved up.

I think by the end of summer I could not go into the side yard

Without a quick warning chirp and dive threats.

I apologized profusely.

The next year I pretended not to notice your nest.

Nodding ‘hi’ as I passed you on a branch.

Now, how many years has it been?

You follow me in the yard. I have no clue where your nest is,

but a family of doves moved in this year. 

A mouse used your nest from last year to build an impressive tower

which we keep trying to convince ourselves it is not a mouse nest.

Some exotic bird, I suppose. 

We watch and hope the cat checks in. As we like to let things live.

You, Mama robin, watch, too.