On bleak
mornings
in November,
when birdsong
is muted and rare,
the robin is the only bird
that sings throughout the year.
In the bleak gloom of winter,
more wistful than in spring,
a robin’s song
is ‘wildly tender’ –
Emily Bronte
wasn’t wrong.
© Kim M. Russell, 2016

My response to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night: Under the Influence, brought to us by Victoria
This is a poem I’d like to read again right in the morning after waking up. In November, of course.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for reading and for your lovely comment!
LikeLike
I love this; I hear the robin’s song too. Without it there is winter silence, beautiful in its own way, but very different. I especially like the last 2 lines and greee:
Emily Bronte
wasn’t wrong.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
I have robins here… a scruffy youngster who came into the house through the french doors the day I moved in and who comes back daily to be fed. They are wonderful little creatures.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ours are quite neat but so cheeky. They come up quite close.
LikeLike
They do seem quite fearless when food or curiosity gets the better of them
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely. I agree with Flash365.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Merril!
LikeLiked by 1 person
A hopeful poem that the bleakness will be alleviated every day. American Robins are much bigger and they don’t really sing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Our robins are tiny, almost as small as wrens.
LikeLike
Oh, is that a picture of a robin in your garden? We haven’t had the pleasure of one in ours yet, so it will be a mute November, I fear. A tender, joyful wisp of a poem, utterly delightful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
We have a pair of robins but I haven’t been able to catch them together when I’ve had my camera to hand!
LikeLike
It’s like trying to catch children all together in one picture, isn’t it?
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are so right!
LikeLike
Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
“In the bleak gloom of winter,
more wistful than in spring,
a robin’s song
is ‘wildly tender’”
I love this; how beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Oh I do wish we could have a robin here… only cawing of crows can be heard… (occasionally)
LikeLiked by 2 people
We have crows, too, but they have been noisy this year. I have heard owls, though.
LikeLike
A beautiful poem.
It’ll be nice to see a robin again. It’s been a while.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love it when a robin follows me round the garden.
LikeLike
We have robins come here to Florida during the winter months…like a lot of other snowbirds, and I always thrill at seeing them in groups with their bright red breasts. Beautiful, Kim.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Gayle.
LikeLike
Sadly we have no robins when winter is here ~ I love though the bird songs all throughout the year ~
Love this one Kim ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Grace. I’ll be over in a while to read.
LikeLike
Robins are wonderful birds and your poem is lovely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much1
LikeLike
Outside my window, I get to see and hear so many birds. I feel blessed to be able to do so considering I live in a jam-packed city. I am always looking out for those melodious tunes of the birds that always have such a joyous tone 🙂
Your poem made me smile 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you – I am thrilled I made you smile – I’m smiling right now thinking about it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this Kim, there is something so special about the friendship of a Robin. We have one in our garden who sings in the mornings and always looks out for us to return from our dog walk.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I looked out of the window this morning and a female pheasant was strutting around the garden – I hope they all come back, – Phil the Pheasant and his girls – they’re so funny! The owls are hooting and screeching at night and the robins are about somewhere – I catch a glimpse of red every now and then when I look up from my laptop!
LikeLiked by 1 person
How wonderful Kim to have them all in your garden! Pheasants are so funny, we see them a lot on our way to the mountains. We only have owls on the roofs when the winters are very harsh and they start hunting for domestic cats …
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not sure I like the idea of owls hunting domestic cats – I’d better keep an eye on my two.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We kept our cat in at night for this reason through Winter.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The cold of winter is accorded some warmth. Good old Robins!
Hank
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hurrah for robins!
LikeLike
Lovely, Kim. I love robins and you have captured their omnipresence well!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Jane!
LikeLike
Such marvelous wonders, realizations. 🌹
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! 🐥
LikeLike
Our robins are big and have become scarce now that the snow is ready to fly.
A lovely poem full of joy and hope.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Mish! I have never seen a big robin, only our tiny ones. While I was working at my desk this afternoon, one hovered outside the window, as if it was looking in at me!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The robins here in N.America are actually a didn’t bird completely than the European variety, so of course I imagined completely the wrong bird at first…so I appreciated the image. Lovely piece!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Bryan!
LikeLike
So peaceful and beautiful. Thanks for this lovely interlude in a world gone mad.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you – this coming week is going to be like waiting for Armageddon, so we need as much peace and beauty as we can get!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The end is nigh!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, the sweet song of the robin… very nice poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sean! Haven’t seen any posts from you for a while – hope you’re well.
LikeLike