We sit, looking at the rain-kissed sky

The train whistle in the distance

A resort is full of people

taking care of it,

loving the land.

Then, raptors

 

And the bird lady

Married to her birds,

Teaching, but her words are full of regret and resentment

Why did she hide so long

Only, like a burrowing owl,

to come out and realize, it is too late,

Too late for children

Bitter pride, an aftertaste of regret.