The Finch

I love to watch the finch; she builds her nest
By picking bits and pieces that she finds
Her comfort is secure; her home is best
I watch her build; I wonder if she minds?
I think she knows I’d never hurt her, no!
And yet she builds protection for her home
Her home is not a gilded cage, although
It’s metaphorically a golden dome
She found some metal pieces on the ground
She placed them ’round her nest and made them neat
It’s strange, the metal pieces that she found
Have made the home she’s building seem complete
I don’t know what the fickle future brings
But I will watch and listen as she sings.

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