A Robin

In a tree outside my window a robin is perched.

I see him there, from time to time, when I remember to look.

I watch as he hops, dim-feathered and fidgety,

Around the frosted branches of his tree.

I doubt that he watches me

Hustle and bustle or’ the creaking floor boards of my house.

In a tree outside my window a robin is perched.

In a house, by a robin’s tree, a woman is watching.