Blank sky, invisible hills,
gray road, pale fence,
at the feeder by my window,
crimson rump of a house finch.
Thank you, dear Mister Finch –
I’d almost stopped believing
in color.
Blank sky, invisible hills,
gray road, pale fence,
at the feeder by my window,
crimson rump of a house finch.
Thank you, dear Mister Finch –
I’d almost stopped believing
in color.