My Grandmother's Birdhouses My grandmother has lived in the same house since she was a little girl It's a small house Just 2 bedrooms But it has a big beautiful backyard Filled with trees that, to a little girl, lazily reach their bony fingers to touch the clouds They haven't quite reached yet, but she always knew that they would These trees, as trees often are, were home to many birds She witnessed the birds make houses out of twigs and spit and hardwork My grandmother knew what hardwork looked like, even as a little girl Her single mom worked everyday for their house For their home For them She saw the mother birds build houses out of twigs and spit and hardwork Now on my grandmother's patio There are 12 birdhouses hung from the roof Wooden, painted, and decorated My grandmother provides homes for the hardworking mother birds Just as she provided her home for her mother when her bones became more like twigs than bones Just as she has provided her home for her children She has seen generations of birds come through the houses She has seen baby birds take their first leaps from their nests She has seen grandchildren take their first steps in her kitchen She has seen generations My grandmother's house is a place for those who seek rest A place for those who seek guidance Those who seek shelter Those who seek help Family, friend, or stranger It doesn't matter There are 2 bedrooms, and one is always open My grandmother lives alone but my grandmother is never without company She keeps the kitchen stocked She keeps the beds made She'll whip your ass in scrabble if you get bored Boggle too, and she is the best piano player that I've ever seen If anyone could burn water, it would be her, but we still always have christmas dinner at her house anyways My grandmother lives alone but has never known loneliness My grandmother has 12 birdhouses She's seen bluebirds and redbirds and mockingbirds and finches They come and build nests for their young They leave and sometimes they never return My grandmother has seen people come and go They stay but eventually she knows that they will leave And that is okay She knows it is okay Because she knows that they know that they are always loved And that they always have a room They always have a home Birds were born with wings So that they could touch the sky Birds build houses out of twigs and spit and hardwork So that they always have somewhere safe to land