a nest in a cherry tree with
one broken blue egg
Late November, Cornelian cherries hang on the tree, attracting birds with their bright red color. I, too, am drawn to the clusters of vermilion fruit. And so I spot, through the branches bare of leaves, an old Robin's nest. In the bottom, nestled in the grass lining, one blue egg, pecked open, the remains of yolk lacquering the inside of the shell. Winter winds will blow the nest to the ground. Its crumbling contents -- mud, grass, egg shell, dried yolk -- will become mulch for the grass that will line another nest in the spring.