When wind brings more snow
To deepen deep snow
Robin busies his beak.
But the pickings are bleak.
He stands at your open door
Asking for more.
‘Anything edible?’
He stares towards the table.
The cat can’t believe
A bird could be so naive.
Half-shut eye, wide ear
She prays: ‘Let him come near!’
Then, with his flaming shirt
Telling him nothing can hurt,
And that he will always win,
Robin bounces in.
