Robin After the Worm ©
By Artemis Quill 3/6/2025
“No problems, overwhelmed with blessings”

The ruby breast, a feathered dart,
A twitching head, a frantic heart.
The robin hops, a blur of brown,
On dew-kissed grass, he hunts renown.
Not glory sought, but sustenance,
A wriggling feast, a chance, a trance.

He jabs and pecks with pointed beak,
A silent prayer, the worms bespeak.
Below the surface, dark and deep,
The earthworm city lies asleep...
Or, rather, wide awake and scared,
A tremor felt, a life impaired.

They sense the shadow, hear the thud,
Of tiny feet, misunderstood.
A frantic wriggle, twist, and turn,
A lesson learned, a knowledge burned.
Stay deep, stay still, avoid the light,
He's coming soon, with all his might.

The robin pulls, with eager strain,
One glistening worm, now marked with pain.
The others tremble, underground,
A silent vow, without a sound.
To burrow deeper, twist and hide,
From hungry beak, and crimson tide.

He swallows fast, then lifts his head,
Another hunt, another dread.
The earth sighs softly, rich and brown,
As life and death dance up and down.
The robin hunts, the worms evade,
A timeless game, expertly played.