Robin

His chest of fire
The small beady eyes
The great unknown

As he follows the worm
Into a fallen tree
The tree smells like decaying wood

Seeing the sofa, against the wall
The tiny table and the tiny chair
The worm rested peacefully on the rug

Robin thought back to his family
Four young ones at home
A mother and a wife

All relying on the fate of this worm
The worm now rested in his sharp claws
It stopped wriggling for once