Found art.
This old robin spent
Most of two summers
In the small back yard
Feathers salt
And pepper gray
Mottled pale orange
Not much spring
To her hops, her chirp
Crackly, must have died
Hidden beneath garden foliage
Old plants faded
And there she was
Papier-mâché likeness of bird
Buried now in situ
Waiting next year’s tomatoes.
Another robin’s back there
Measuring the room.
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