Sonnet Poem by David C Probst

A stormy night it was that shook the trees
Their lofty heads dishevelled by the wind
Like humans waking from their restless sleep
Deprived of vigour, diffusèd in their minds.
That night the blackbird clinging to its nest
Attempting to preserve its fragile breed
From being swept away by zephyr’s jest
Made way to nature’s deadly, heedless deed.
Abandoned and exposèd thus did lie
Two naked eggs the bird was meant to hatch
Still warm and lulled in false security
Yet doomed without their parent's soothing thatch -
And yet, despite such dim imperative
The weak one died, the stronger one survived!