Solitary Robin

I'm sharing my baked potato with a solitary robin.
He's flitting around the table top, protecting his discovery.
"You are a lean one," I said out loud to my new friend as he
landed.
The starchy warmth acts on him visibly, speeding his recovery
From the penetrating cold, still permeating the damp ground
outside.
Cold that reaches right up through our soles to do battle with
heat
From the sun. It slowly warms our backs, the robin and me, side by
side.
Then, head cocked, eyes bright, the now plump robin flies off. Once
more, I eat.