Nesting
Poetry

The fruit of the bittersweet vine
is toxic to humans but
the birds like it. the vines wind
around
and around
a wild cherry tree,
carving corkscrews
into its arms. I pry
the vines out,
but leave
enough of a thicket
to support the nest made
from dead fronds of exotic reeds
the neighbor planted,
now wet
and melded
together from
the winter snows,
which were very bad
this year. On top of the nest
the birds have piled white poly-fil,
mounds of fluff from a teddy bear
split down the middle. Through
the little puffs of filaments
they’ve created
a tunnel,
burrowing to the center,
and on top
they’ve set three
bright orange berries
a little snack arranged
for later.
I’m careful
not to disturb.
Corrie Byrne is a poet and artist out of Pennsylvania. She graduated with an M.F.A from Iowa State University's Creative Writing and Environment program, which encouraged writing grounded in cross studies, diverse experiences, and a multifaceted view of the natural world. She likes to write about the nexus between humans and the environment