where did the robins go?

hundreds of worms and not a robin in sight

an odd omen indeed

all of em—the worms, i mean, were in various stages of drowning and dying

they had been pulled from their element, and the sidewalk they had landed on

was not soft to their squirming and pushing penetrating heads

they tired out

and now they would die

the air smells of em—the worms, i mean

in my youth, i swear, the robins used to smell them too

the air would fill with robins, and they'd land and gorge themselves

nature's feast, heaven's gift, the holy afterlife

but not a robin in sight