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.
lovely.
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