Jun 12

‘The Robin’ – By Seth Finnegan

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When my pipe glows red and is warm in my palm,

And the storm clouds are muttering rain,

There is calm in thy tread on the green grass again

When the songbirds are uttering praise,

Then I see thee fork lightning to earth

Past worth to all known mystery.

Come my little miracle, miraculum,

Skim the wisteria as you always do,

Forager elite, neat to thy plunder,

Object of wonder so it grew, when first I saw

Thy badge of bright vermilion, flashing the shadows,

For then I knew thee, too bold to behold,

For nothing holds thee fearless one,

Fabric of forms delight.

Where do you go when the sun rolls out to the west,
And the shades of evening fall? Call to me once

When winds touch thy flight. I am so glad to know

Thy presence for moments to marvel thy might,

And the crimson of thy breast.

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