There is a little robin that I see from day to day
Hopping along in fits and starts - a game he seems to play -
At times he does a single hop; sometimes he is on the run
And he goes darting here and there as he zig-zags in the sun.

Suddenly, he brakes his speed; very still he waits instead;
He puts his ear close to the ground and cocks his little head,
Then spears through soil with his sharp beak his suspicions to confirm
And just below the surface there he finds a slippery worm.

Off he flies back to the nest high up in the green spruce tree
The tasty morsel in his beak to share with his family;
Four little beaks are gaping wide and Mother is waiting to stuff
Tiny pieces of food inside 'til the babies have had enough.

Every day from dawn to dusk the same task he doth perform,
Except, he cannot carry on during a thunderstorm;
When all the rain falls from the sky I'll hear his cheery "cheer-up"!
Off he goes to check for worms as the skies begin to clear up.

--Doreen (Adams) Ellis


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