Robin

Marion Kleuters

Little bird in the red cravate
you stare at me with beady eyes
I look back knowing that
if I moved the slightest bit
you'd be gone, we would split.

So I sit tight, look at your neck so red
as if your feathers had somehow bled
keeping your head slightly to one side
begging for crumbs, I feel your plight.

Your stick legs clasp the back of the chair
the long toes stretching, balancing air
we sit and stare, sit and stare.

Then duty calls, I get up and place
my bread on the table with careful grace
you swoop down, start pecking the crumbs
while your beak deftly the table drums
then turn your head once as I go
redbreast, you will never know
that the sight of you
has moved me so.