This poem was written earlier this summer when I visited Mystic Hot Springs in Utah. I saw a nest of birds high up on the roof a house. Now, this was no ordinary house; it was severely water damaged, located just feet away from the hot springs. An entire chunk of the foundation was missing, causing part of the home to sit precariously over a cliff.
Of course, it was over this most dangerous part of the building that the birds decided to place their nest. I couldn’t fully relax in the springs as I was staring at the baby birds moving closer and closer to the edge of their nest as Mama Bird flew back and forth with food. Fortunately, during my time there, nothing bad happened to the birds. I’m just hoping they grew wings and learned how to fly, fast!
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