I’ll sit like the robin you see on a tough winter’s day,

Self-assured and surviving, I’ll hop and dive in and up

And out of your beautiful garden of a life,

Where rose petals wilt in corners unkept, for fear of the thorns

And moss that crept up the garage wall and locked away

Your sprayed-white pebbledash innocence.

Where each dimple and crack reclaimed by life

Slowly infects the self-deceit hidden deep within

The stones and further concrete below.

I’ll sit on your fence and watch that wall blossom and grow green,

Balanced and breathing, I’ll watch the white paint ache into yellow

Then flake and crumble into the Earth.

When the ivy and the soil and the thick rooted weeds

Resurge and reclaim the world, one pave stone at a time,

I’ll be there to watch your garden come back to life,

When the bugs and the birds and the sun kissed flowers

Celebrate your walls and don’t judge or dictate

Or control what grows and blooms within them,

I’ll sit like the robin you always see on hard days gone by.