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Writer's pictureThe Red Wheelbarrow Poetry

The Nuthatch

Updated: Jun 9, 2021

Bernard O’Donoghue

I couldn't fathom why, one leafless Cloudcast morning he appeared to me, Taking time off from his rind-research To spread his chestnut throat and sing Outside my window. His woodwind Stammering exalted every work-day For weeks after. Only once more I saw him, quite by chance, among The crowding leaves. He didn't lift His head as he pored over his wood-text. Ashamed of the binocular intrusion, Like breath on eggs or love pressed too far, I'm trying to pretend I never saw him.


Featured on 11 March 2021


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