Spring is finding a cracked robin's egg lying in the long dark green grass. Any piece of shell with a delicate pale blue if it catches my attention. Then it is so true I look up intuitively for an outline above of a well built nest. It's maybe too soon to hear its hungry cries of dark eyed baby robins, but it won't be long before you do.
Ahhh...one of the birds I grew up with, but I can't say I have seen the robin as I knew from childhood in NZ....but your poem transported me...thanks.... Niah
Robins are one of the heralds of Spring...I have a soft spot in my heart for them and their cheerful song. It reminds me...the days of green and new birth are here again...I love Spring and the Robins. Great reading from you,
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