The Reservoir

Vulnerable visions
of home, I hear the calls,
my heart swoons
with the swan school
and willow trees
overlooking a reservoir

That is where I found you
my little vulnerable being,
alone near dogwood brush
hiding from an eager fox’s
high pitched scream

Your mother was dead
and other eggs eaten.
I grabbed your tiny yellow
body wrapping you in
my silk green scarf.

For the first week, I fed
you dried meal worms
and chick feed. Time passed
us by, and soon you decided
I felt like home.

We both return to the reservoir,
and I show you where we once
had met. Before you knew that
you needed me, and I needed you,
my little white feathered friend.