Trio

by Amy Vijayanagar

For 3 days she had amassed and arranged

Grass and twigs and mud

Into an elaborate life-giving lattice

Atop the porch lamp cozy

The way nature in threes

Calculated triangulations, pieces bending though balanced

Three hundred fibers woven just so

The Mama Robin knows

What matters, solid and liquid and gas

And in which dimensions, height and width and depth

To thrive, in the face of

Our faces, front door, ladder, mailbox clangs and our

Breath on her haven

She glares with her bespectacled eye, well aware that

The clapboard cocoons we build

Are both refuge and risk

Earth Day morning

With husband and daughter and son

My three

Go peeking and we see

Colors of the season all composites of red and yellow and blue

A blueness all her own, so we call it Robin’s Egg

And there in the nest rests a trio poised

As the world waits worries washes away

Yesterday

She sits today safeguarding, conserving

For tomorrow, when her fledglings will flaunt

Undaunted

What the Mama Robin knows