Looking up I blinked 

Welcome winter sun was in my eyes

Through the nude branches of a Chorisia tree bearing just one big white flower 

I was reminded of O. Henry’s sad story – The Last Leaf

Surprisingly the solitary flower augured joy

Perhaps being a flower made the difference

Flower contains new life in it unlike the drying leaf

While I was contemplating the proud lone flower

I detected a nest

Cradled poised between the forking branches, quite in the centre of the tree

Mother bird had carefully positioned it so 

To keep it hidden among the leaves 

To save it from predators 

It was visible to prying me

As the leaves had fallen

Mother bird was not concerned

Her chicks, having grown strong and independent, must have flown away

Leaving the nest vacant

The nest was empty 

And appeared strange

Being transparent

Oh! It was made of carelessly discarded omnipresent polythene bags

The urban bird chose the ubiquitous polythene 

Locally abundantly available, malleable material

For constructing a soft and water impervious trough

I wonder how it must have compared with the twiggy one

Did it retain rain water? 

Did the excreta, food remains mix with water to form noxious gel that harmed the nascent skinned babies?

Did the mother bird lament the absence of porosity?

Did the chicks survive?

I am stricken by the thought of how deeply human intervention has penetrated nature and impaired it