Reflections on a Robin

A simple, short and sober poem about a robin that is the tamest bird we have in our garden. He sits by the window waiting for the huge beasts to get off the feeders or the squirrels to get out of the way.
This was written early December 2018. Hopefully, bird lovers will recognise what I’m trying to say even if poetry lovers might regard it as a bit of a Christmas Card. 

Reflections on a Robin

Beyond kitchen window the robin perches

Among the red-brown wintery leaves

Alert and still, for food he searches

While below him a scurrying squirrel thieves

The scraps thrown down for any passing bird

His branch by the wall against the west wind lurches

Grinding sounds from the tree are heard

The cold and damp have invaded the grass

Only greys and greens will grace this day

The vegetation waits for winter to pass

As paunchy pigeons waddle their way

The brightest sight is that breast of brown-red

For the rain-filled clouds hide the sun, alas

The robin bobs his humble head

Then, suddenly, he flies beyond our sight

Maybe to the shelter of another’s home

A place, perhaps, where might’s less right

Or where his mate and fledglings roam

From wherever he returns, be it east or west

By lightest day or dimmest light

Welcome awaits that red-brown breast