he summer nests uncovered by autumn wind, <br />Some torn, others dislodged, all dark, <br />Everyone sees them: low or high in tree, <br />Or hedge, or single bush, they hang like a mark. <br /> <br />Since there's no need of eyes to see them with <br />I cannot help a little shame <br />That I missed most, even at eye's level, till <br />The leaves blew off and made the seeing no game. <br /> <br />'Tis a light pang. I like to see the nests <br />Still in their places, now first known, <br />At home and by far roads. Boys knew them not, <br />Whatever jays and squirrels may have done. <br /> <br />And most I like the winter nests deep-hid <br />That leaves and berries fell into: <br />Once a dormouse dined there on hazel-nuts, <br />And grass and goose-grass seeds found soil and grew.<br /><br />Edward Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/birds-nests/
