My forward movement
startles us both –
you ground foraging
with the robins,
me delighted
by a flash of red –
heart at your nape.
You rise, alight
on tree branch
your squeaky call,
warning or greeting
stops me in my track –
patiently I wait
as you circle the tree
head bobbing, alert,
till we both settle
and my lens succeeds.
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day. Image from personal collection.)