He clasps the post with crooked claws;
the winter blast around him roars,
sole countryman with me outdoors.

A buffet rips him from his seat;
its force seems likely to defeat
his focussed search for rodent meat.

If I may small with great compare
in feathered riders of the air,
so may I in an earthbound pair:

the eagle, imitating men,
sought kingship (bested by the wren)
but soared above the kestrel; then,

Lord Alfred, fashioner sublime,
accept a crib from aftertime —
this lower-flying maker’s rhyme.