The Robin’s Reflection

The robin flies into the window

because glass does not shine like water;

and there is another bird there,

flat and strange and shimmering.

This is the robin’s land of

damp creeksides and

there’s the nest among the maple towers,

so he sings a song, beautiful and weaved of trills,

and the sun moves along with his notes,

until at long last the other bird has gone.

Tagged: Birds, Environment, Life, Musings, Nature, Poetry, Random, Robins, Spring, Thoughts, Wildlife, Writing