winter birds.

Rain in the afternoon,
Rain in the evening,
Rain in the night.

Feeling poignant,
I look at the rain,
and feel that they are tears inside me.

I remember this poem I wrote.

 It is blustery cold.
In 4 days,
It will be the shortest day of the year.
The wind is howling,
The rain is pouring.

Oh  _____,
The b______ birds,
They have come in the house again.
I go ______. ______, _______.
I have lost my poetic mood.
Get out! bird, _________.

Billy Ung I was walking along Hoddle St one morning after a stormy night. The medium strip was littered with dead sparrows. Mother Nature is unforgiving and only allows the fittest to survive. Sometimes just being fit is not enough in a natural disaster.