Tags

, , ,

๐“๐ก๐ž ๐’๐š๐ฆ๐ž

The finches look the same to me

As those I trapped so long ago.

They flit about the bunya tree

And look at me as if they know

Me from before, when I was young.

Perhaps they are the same bright birds,

For I recall the same tunes sung โ€”

And quite unaltered are their words.

โ€” D.N. Oโ€™Brien