An Exotic Robin (An Odd Bird)

Among the rows of pleasant bungalows
where I take my almost daily walks
there's one distinguished by an odd bird,
a robin, marked by two long tail feathers
of pure white, and on each wing also,
toward their outer edges,
another plume of long white.
And when he flies, and spreads his wings and tail
they form a nested pair of pointed V's,
like some small sleek new military jet.

I look for him. Why not? The oddest bird
in Redford. I wonder, is he ostracized?
Thankfully, the other day, I caught
him with a mate, sharing a worm.
He cast a one-eyed sideway look at me.
I'm growing odd myself, I fear,
in what I worry-on...

O spin, spin, spin, sweet evolution,
your imaginings and permutations,
meaningless in their variety,
are wider than our own, beget things
we never would have thought-of.

And you,
my singular friend, you odd bird,
experiment most likely unpropitious,
are here this springtime nonetheless,
feeding and desiring, full of longing,
to multiply, subdue the earth,
and have dominion over worms.