Nest

I feel your weight on my chest
your special lightness like a bird’s egg
with its potential for life 
locked inside something hard enough 
to protect the creature that may come
but fragile too, and susceptible to;

the nibble of the weasel
the crack of the beak,
the fist of the thief
who dares to climb here
 
into our nest, 
the one we built, 
tenuously on this thin branch
thinking nobody could see.