Robin

A robin flew up
And landed
At the very top
Of a pine tree
With a worm in its beak
Squawking gently
Twitching its tail feathers
Stretching its wings
With erratic pumps

I could see it
So clearly
In contrast
To the light blue
Morning sky

I looked down
To write this
And then looked back
To write more
But the robin
Was gone