Reynard’s daughter came trotting to our door
and stood there looking thoughtfully through the windows.
With fresh white socks and naive eyes she shone
with playfulness and youthful innocence.
Two agitated robins perched above
watching her movements. Might she be a threat?
They chittered shrilly, bouncers on helium.
She skipped away. The robins puff their chests.

Taking a break from Hereward today…
(09.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Lesya Tyutrina Andrey Biyanov on Unsplash