There’s a robin in the garden,
a juvenile with spotted breast,
confused but game at fending for itself.
I have no need to fret
or weep or worry
Fending for myself in my snug nest.
I can be as confident
As a juvenile robin.
Monday morning quadrille, https://dversepoets.com/2019/06/17/quadrille-82-fretboard-of-poetry/