Robin

Journal for Christa—

If I wanted to sit in the dark (which I don’t), I could watch the snow gently cover the pond and fill up the yard. If it’s going to be winter and cold, I guess it might as well snow. It has snowed a lot this year. One morning last week, while suiting up to help Jay shovel the drive, I noticed a little, single robin sitting on the patio out back. He was all poofed out, feet buried in the cold downy softness.

“Oh, little bird,” I wondered, “why have you come home so soon? Colorado winters are long. Surely you’ve been some place warm and nice.” He did look a little perplexed just sitting there all fluffed out. I kind of felt bad for him.

I have noticed, though, that robins seem to have their babies first in the spring. While other birds are flitting around building nests, baby robins are busy trying out their wings. Perhaps, robins come back early to prepare for laying eggs. It won’t be easy this year.

I wonder where the little guy is tonight. I would go back south if it were me, but I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, huddled under some shelter, fluffed out in the cold.

Solitary, all alone,

The robin bird

Stands on the patio—

Tiny feet submerged

In white,

Silent, still with

Feathers poofed

Amidst the

Falling snow—

He glances up

And spies a spot

Where the nest

Will go.