In springtime first fly blood-red robins

Blue shells split with un-dead robins


Subjects for a schoolboy’s drawings

Grace this page like strong, lead robins


Bursting sky wards to God’s callings

Curse of worms, those well-fed robins


But Teacher’s note read, “There are problems…”

She asked, “What is this?” I said, “Robins.”


I liked the one I saw who’d fallen

I named him then, and drew blue robins

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