(five haiku)
My Christmas robin –
on bucket, spade and barrow –
all the right poses.
Wherever I go
in the garden, there he is
with his eye for worms.
Fluttering moth-like
above my extended palm,
he airlifts a crumb.
Now he touches down,
the tickly grip of his toes
on my finger’s twig.
My dainty daemon –
pert, alert – an ounce of bounce
and a ketchup stain.
– – – Anthony Watts – – –
Author of:
The Shell Gatherer, Oversteps, 2011
Steart Point & other poems, John Garland, 2009
The Talking Horses of Dreams, Iron Press, 1999
Strange Gold, Iron Press, 1991
