In this view, I know the name
of that village on the hill
but I forget the next and the next
Most of these birds, this song,
were here before
but the heft and pin-black eye
of the red kite are new,
not known
And though the sharp-scrape panic
as the pheasant protests
has sounded a thousand times past,
these days it’s heard different
Mar 19, 2022
Mar 19, 2022 at 7:33 AM UTC
In this view, I know the name
of that village on the hill
but I forget the next and the next
Most of these birds, this song,
were here before
but the heft and pin-black eye
of the red kite are new,
not known
And though the sharp-scrape panic
as the pheasant protests
has sounded a thousand times past,
these days it’s heard different
Request permission to use this poem