“Brocade”
by Jane Hirshfield
All day wondering
if I’ve become useless.
All day the osprey
white and black,
carrying
big dry sticks without leaves.
Late, I say to my pride,
You think you’re the feathered part
of this don’t you?
All day wondering if I’ve become useless
live in the layers 
Beautiful poem. A bit dark. Especially for someone old. Not building nests any longer, but enjoying the updrafts of my grandchildren, watching them build their nests.