The old trellis is still standing, top-heavy
with verdant honeysuckle leaves
and studded with dark pink buds.
Below the greenery, old woody
branches tangle with dusty shadows,
hunchbacked hollows of musty
undergrowth. Straining against my hands,
secateurs crack and break brittle branches,
their sharp echoes scattering birds and,
deep inside the remains of an old hydrangea,
a bowl of earth and twigs crumbles
and drops into the soil. Empty nest
full of tiny feathers,
fluff and memories.
Kim M. Russell, 2nd May 2019
My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Wordy Thursday with Wild Woman: Celebrating the Ordinary, also linked to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night
Sherry tells us that she is moved by poems that celebrate the small ordinary joys. She shares a poem, ‘Coffee with Milk’ by Natalie Goldberg, who she says is a master at writing about the ordinary ‘in a way that allows us to see the hidden depths beneath the seemingly simple words. Natalie Goldberg encourages us to celebrate the ordinary – and so does Sherry.
The prompt is to either: look around us, select small ordinary things we rarely give much thought to and include them in our poems; or write about the present moment, just as it is.
writing in north norfolk 
Well done. I was there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Ron.
LikeLike
Oh such a beautiful little nest, so sad that it fell. Those tiny feathers left behind, so poignant. This is lovely, Kim. Thanks for writing, so soon after April.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sherry. I didn’t even touch the nest, it just crumbled!
LikeLike
I really love how you tie this together with the season… the past becomes so strong while the present of growth is beckoning us to clean out the old.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thank you, Björn. It also has a lot to do with my daughter and son-in-law finally finding a house they like and having their offer accepted – yippee!
LikeLike
You snagged me with /hunchback hollows of musty undergrowth/. We had a robin’s nest in the rafters of our deck, and it was used for two years in a row.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think the cats might have frightened the birds away from this very low nest, which was down in the shrubs. I didn’t have time to work out what kind of bird had built it as it crumbled as soon as I touched the branches. We’ve had a robin visiting us the past couple of weeks but I haven’t seen a mate.
LikeLike
A beautiful write Kim and I love the symbolism of the ‘Empty nest full of tiny feathers, fluff and memories’ xxx
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Xenia. xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like the sequence of images and actions, almost like watching it unfold as you did what you did. Sounds like the birds picked a safe location for their nest, that has now started its journey to humus.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jade!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Birds build so many nests that they never use or never manage to raise their babies in. So much work for heartache.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I agree. I always feel sad when I see an empty nest or a broken egg.
LikeLike
Mothers 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
In early spring there’s always the hope that a nest full of tiny feathers has served its purpose. Some birds default to reusing old nests; some build new ones each year.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is that hope. And of course many birds raise two or three broods.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The one I found was low down in the shrubbery and looked as if it had fallen from a tree last year; it turned to dust as soon as I disturbed it. There is sadness in empty nests.
LikeLike
Beautifully writ! “Full of tiny feathers, fluff and memories.” Love this description….so perfect and so sweet at the same time.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Lill! Who knows what else I’ll find?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice last two lines.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Frank.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sad, and yet, full of promise for the coming weeks and months, that time will bring to us, with patience and love. May your home and flowerbeds, be blessed with the sounds and sights of life, Kim.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you so much, Therisa.
LikeLike
What a lovely write. There is so much treasure in a garden if we but look.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Susie. I hope to find more at the weekend!
LikeLike
I love the smell of honeysuckle, and the image of an empty nest of “fluff and memories.”
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Crystal.
LikeLike
Oh, I love this, makes me want to Spring clean, just to see what I find…it has to warm a little bit more
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Mary. It’s been fairly warm here but we’re being threatened with a cold front!
LikeLike
Lovely, Kim, in its detail and focus…that bowl of earth & twigs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lynn. Sadly the nest was too old to preserve.
LikeLike
Stunning, beautiful poem – I think its a favorite. It is amazing what these prompts guide us to do… Just love this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Margaret!
LikeLike
an ordinary yet profound find cleaning up the garden .. life is made of such moments 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll be out there again tomorrow! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
good for you!
Loved the milk in coffee one … very zen 🙂
Can you please ask your friend if we can use name or url to sign in, I don’t have a google account – thanks!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You don’t need a Google account. Name and url should be OK.
LikeLiked by 1 person
for you but not for hers …
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this poem. I have a deep affinity for bird nests, something so precious in their simplicity.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kerry.
LikeLike
The treasures of life. I like especially the hidden hydrangea. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
There was a hidden peony too! And I found two little terracotta birds, which I’ve cleaned up.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Peonies too! An extravaganza of treasures!
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Amazing what we can find dugging in the undergrowth and overgroth, of our property – and our life! Excellent writ Kim…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Rob!
LikeLike
Loved the title and the poem. Beautifully done!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly, Annell!
LikeLike
I love the way this poem unfolds. I am not a gardener, but you brought me there. And it reminded me of how my fence looks this time of year, partially covered with morning glories.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much! Your fence sounds like a classical haiku!
LikeLike