robin



To introduce  one of the denizens of the allotment. This little fellow’s favourite perch is the handle of a spade, from where he watches proceedings on the ground with interest. Last summer I was amazed when he landed lightly on a rhubarb leaf right next to me (I was using the spade), and stayed there for about 30 seconds, while I was weeding the rhubarb patch. I wouldn’t have thought the leaf could hold the robin’s weight, nor that the robin could retain its balance on the leaf as it gently swayed and bobbed in the wind. I was wrong on both counts, of course. In the absence of a photo of this fleeting yet memorable moment, I humbly offer this poem:


Allotment poem

 

by Earthscraper

 

you land so lightly,

robin on the rhubarb leaf

afloat on the breeze

 

the leaf rising and falling

like a magic carpet green

on its ruddy stalk

 

where better to survey

the soil turned by the spade

for bugs and beetles?

 

if only my poem,

landing on the page, could be

so balanced, so poised

 

as you, ready to take wing

and alight on the brown earth,

robin on the rhubarb leaf 


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