Old Nests in the Cold Season
by ted Guhl

We speak of broken things
like shell found in last summer's nests
where eggs had warmed to birthing
and souls emerged and flew away.
My ancient shell grows thin
too. And only a little warmth is needed
to crack it. I do not ask for anything
of you but warmth, a little warmth.
You may keep whatever broken pieces
you have stored in your heart's
nest. And bleed the red of afterbirth
without fear I will request a drop -
only a little warmth from you
I ask. And should the chill of empty nests
in winter touch you, I will share
what few soft feathers I have left in return