ROBIN in the LETTER-BOX

A key hidey-hole filled up, strangely

and surreptitiously 

with autumn leaf-litter by an incognito bird.

To find, alors! our hedgerow robin

on duty - for tiny, gaping mouths,

as she watches our regular traffic 

from the verandah rail

for her chance to nip in to feed the newly hatched babes -

unbeknownst.

For many aeons this garden bird

is symbiotic with human-kind

in all our digging and weeding,

with veggie plots, water-butts and tools to perch on -

grubs and insects to look-out for.

We tiptoe around the letter-box

for fear of freaking out the parents:

existence itself is scary enough

with babies venturing to the brink,

teetering on edges, testing newfound wings -

while giant-us clomp around

with hoses and spades galore

and kites with hungry eyes scan from above.