With Help From the Robin

WITH HELP FROM THE ROBIN He spotted me from afar His keen eye assessing My suitability as a partner As I wrestled with the ivy And tore its gnarled arms from Their deadly stranglehold on the tree Smothered and held tighter for years At last deeming me apt And with no fear of me Or my razortooth saw He elected me to his team That cold day of frost And smoking chimneys His red feather sweater Swelling with pride at his choice As he waited his turn To attack the suffocating hydra I ripped ivy away from The tree’s throat while He sat on a close-by branch Till the woodlice were exposed From the writhing twisted wrists Then fluttered in and ate them And gave the tree back its breath We killed the ivy together That life-giving day We parted as friends And as brothers in arms.