I named him BalwinBecause it means ‘bold friend’He’s much bolder than IBut nowhere near as bald.Hopping into her potting shedWithout asking permissionStealing treatsAsking for favoursFistfuls of fatAtrophied mealsSwell his cropBetween badges of greyNot normally noted on a black-breasted bird. That’s how we know it is himIt’s his i.d.That’s meSays heUnder our apple treeNear to her … Continue reading Baldwin the Bold