A fragile robin’s egg lies in my path, unbroken
about forty-five feet below it’s mother’s nest.
Stepping over the unseen fetus, the first rays
of dawn reflected it’s tranquil blue, cooler than
the required mother’s 104 degree feathered belly.
No more than fourteen short days before escape
from that hollow inside to inevitable blue skies.
Then, there must be feedings every fifteen minutes.
Impossible to even contemplate.
Now late for my classroom full of disabled
children, also demanding attention, slowly learning
their way out, I hurry along surprised
to find my palm cradling a tiny blue shell.
Yeah, the power of free verse that can sink to the free, fragile minds of our time. I like the flow of thoughts.
poignant juxtapositioning, tender and understanding, Whitman's free verse ringing true 10 well done!
Brings back memories of finding robin's eggs as a child. delicately written about a delicate situation.
Very nice! Beautiful imagery and very detailed. I love the feeling of quiet suprise in the very last line. Great work! 10
Aplogies Cheryl for not responding sooner to your stunning poem, I'm speechless. Warmly, Jerry
lovely poem. tell me more about the Robin. I have many many Robins in my garden, they are all lovely, even the scruffy ones.
The miracle of a moment that is moving and meaningful has a way of motivating us to do marvalous yet strange things. Wonderfully written.
Hi, This poem is something. You use good imegry wich alows the reader to see what is going on. Nicely written. A.
A nice write, a natural and deep theme and the sense of responsibility. It is good Sir.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can tell this poem took some intricate devising to create such a free flowing and transparent piece. I love the comparison between the unending care of the birds young after hatching, and helping the children out of their 'shells'. This is altogether lovely and unforgettable.