by Claire Loader

There is a bird that comes to my threshold
Leaves tiny sticks at my door
Every morning like clockwork
A piece of straw, a sprig of grass

I wonder does she think to build a nest
Settle among the flaking eaves
Or perhaps she speaks from nature
We must hunker now
These darkening days
Learn again to fly

Claire Loader was born in New Zealand and spent several years in China before moving to County Galway, Ireland. Her work has appeared in various publications, including Crannóg, The Cormorant and The Bangor Literary Journal.

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