my nest

I want to buy things,

to entertain myself,

to entertain the kids,

to have something else to do,

like a crow,

collecting shiny things,

worthless shiny things,

because my nest is full enough of shiny things.

What I need to be doing

is settling into this nest

that is already cozy enough

with my wings around my babies

that are happy enough

and stop planning for the tree to disappear up from under us.

Even if this is the end of a way of life,

a way of life that I like,

because I am the type of person who takes air mattresses on camping trips,

much to my husband’s chagrin,

even if this is all coming to a close,

something else will be next.

And padding my nest with more shiny things

is unlikely to be what is needed next.