I see you in there.

Red-Breasted Robin
on a cold chain-link fence
peers at me through
mini-blinds and
double-paned glass.
I look at him, he looks at me.
We do not move.

He sits and gazes,
but I don’t know what he means.

I close the blinds,
wondering if he knows
we were forged in the belly
of the Earth,
made with the breath of stardust.