Architecture Stolen from Animals*
May 22, 2016
I spy on birds with binoculars, but I want
their nests, to unwind the mess:
brittle leaves, dried branches, cracked mud,
peel away their trash built homes;
the objects, the plastic, rips of ribbon, newspaper,
straw wrappers, the shiny
metals. For every Bird a nest.
What I make you wouldn’t want. But the delicate
homes of honey bees, the expansive
wasp nest, the condominium living of wispy
cardboard; the layers are persuasive:
a circle to curl into. I pick pocket
purple blue abandoned mussel shells five times.
The translucent skin from a snake: Finding
is the first Act. And then? All the debris
I wrap myself in.
. . . . .
*Copyright 2016 by Carla Conforto. Broadside illustration by Kim Wulfestieg