blue plastic string

i look out the kitchen window. there is a knot of mud and dead grass wedged in the bare elm. the birds spent a month building it. they hauled up dog hair and gum wrappers. they fought over dry twigs. now the leaves are gone. it is just a cold lump of trash. they flew down to Mexico. smart bastards. i strike a match on the table. a piece of blue plastic string hangs from the bottom of the mud.