Encountered

A robin

round black eyes like berries

peering at me impassively

as I stand and stare back.

It blinks its grey lids

as I watch, and blinks again,

then suddenly shifts its weight

effortlessly

turning its back on me

but still looking at me

over a grey feathered shoulder.

I take a step backwards -

it hops a little forwards

keeping me close range

fixed in its gaze

as if I am a little tasty morsel

instead of a clumsy lumbering man;

perhaps I am.

And it’s a joy

a sweet stilling of time

to be
beheld 
by a bird.