I’m at the wooded entrance
Just parked my car, then I observe
fresh drops of rain on the car next to mine
with a robin
slipping and sliding up
its feet grasping
a slippery front window
running a mile-a-minute to reach the top.
At this point, she flies down to the passenger
and flaps her wings continually
looking at herself
thinking it’s someone else.
She can’t quite find a place to land
but flaps a few seconds more,
searching for the reflection
before landing below on the ground.
She flies up to the hood of the car again
runs up the window
flies down to the mirror
and once again tries to make contact
with the image.
Thirteen times she does this,
then finally she looks up
distracted by something in a tree.
Perhaps it is another bird
or a place to go and rest
and maybe it is just what she needed
to break a cycle.