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