Traffic Nest

Twig fell down before my eyes –
Not a tree in sight.
As I glanced up to the skies
I caught a bird in flight…

Heading to its nest below
A traffic light suspended,
Where its babies might just grow,
So easily defended.

I wonder if the nestlings hear
The changing colors clicking
And if it’s comfort more than fear
Within their brains that’s sticking.

If so, those birds will always calm
When traffic lights do change,
An urban dose of soothing balm
Observers might find strange.