little robin red


the little robin perches
in contended peace
atop his bouncy branch.
all the robins know it –
that branch is his.
it’s his home, his castle,
his sanctuary.
there, he is lord
and leader,
king and commander.
this branch, in its frailty
is to the timid robin
what the great mast
of the Cutty Sark
is to the gulls of Greenwich,
and the peaked hat of Nelson
on his marble column
is to the pigeons of Trafalgar.
his tower,
his fortress –
where nought but the weather
can get to him.


2 thoughts on “little robin red

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