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.
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.