a thin robin caught my eye
through the front door glazing
comically balancing a long twig in its beak
between two flowerpots on the low wall
thwarted by the insufficient aperture
the twig jammed repeatedly
be he tightrope-walker or man with plank
his exertions were hilarious
later I watched him dancing
with errant dried leaves
and I knew building was underway
the ivy had been his home before
for three days he worried tirelessly
unused garden chaff littering the path
two weeks later, in the back garden
with early morning zazen and tea
quietly on the shaky old bench
I cannot bring myself to throw away
I spied his new abode
a seed tray in the potting shed
his entry via the perished felt
a perfect summer lease
*
© Graham Sherwood 05/2020
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 