I picked up a bundle of something
That rolled right past me on my walk
Some yarn and some twigs and mysterious things
Held together with nothing but air
I turned it over a time or two
Until it became obvious
I held in my hands an unfinished nest
Tossed aground from some branches above
Some questions resound
with a definitive yes
Some others that just repeat why
Did a bird up and leave in the midst of its work?
Did a fledgling forget how to fly?
I carried it home and made space on the shelf
Of trinkets and treasures I own
A reminder there’s beauty in things that aren’t done
And answers that never are known
(Day 9: 1 subject 30 ways #questionpoem)
KateMcCarrollMoore 