Pigeons

Four feet from my back door
two pigeons have built a nest,
in my Fire Maple.
Deep thick leaf cover,
nothing to betray it
save a few dropped sticks,
and an increasing lime-splatter
on the paving slab below

Two baby pigeons, spiky headed
like hair-gelled punks,
parent birds busy feeding them.
The young sit tight and low,
heads barely visible.

Difficult to photograph,
without trimming the tree a bit,
which would expose them too much,
to hunting Magpies or Crows.

So I watch what I can,
speaking to them softly,
stood below in dappled shadows.
Mummy Pigeon 'Coos' back at me,
a gentle sound with no alarm.

Their 'spikes' have softened,
they perch on the edge of the nest.
'Sitting out.'
Not yet ready for flight,
but flapping their still-stubby wings,
feeling out the air around them,
the larger world soon to be theirs.

Gyppo 

If there's any sign of them rebuilding the nest next year I'll try to get a web camera up there before the eggs are laid.  It's within stepladder reach, but I discovered the nest too late to risk disturbing them this time.

I could see it all. Nice work, Gyppo.