Robin
by Ustaz Fitrah
(Whitby, Yorkshire, United Kingdom)
Robin
Bolding about
the freshly turned garden,
Drilling at worm
and centipede,
Picking over
hand raked soil,
Unruffled
in your clock hopping quest
for invisible sun-seed.
We eye each other from a distance
that closes as the shadows crawl;
In no time you are about my ankles,
darting in at the very turning of the fork.
Once before
When you were too trusting,
The trickster wolf was on you,
Gripped your thorny legs with moonish fangs,
And spun you
Breast first
Into the iron-red sun.
Remember your shrieking
At that mythic branding hiss of pain?
The distant memory
of furnaced cruelty
erupts around us now
as this earth breaks
into the trilling ‘tic-tac-twicker’
of your enduring blossom song.
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