There is a bird sitting on a branch of a tree

My goldfinch, I'll toss back my head— let's look at the world, you and I: a wintry day, prickly as stubble, is it just as rough on your eye? Tail like a boat, black and gold plumage, dipped in paint from the beak down— are you aware, my little goldfinch, what a goldfinch dandy you are? What air there is on his forehead: black and red, yellow and white— the keeps a sharp lookout both ways, won't look now, he's flown out of sight.
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My goldfinch
,
I'll toss back my head—
let's look at the world
,
you and I:
a wintry day
,
prickly as stubble
,
is it just as rough on your eye
?
Tail like a boat
,
black and gold plumage
,
dipped in paint from the beak down—
are you aware
,
my little goldfinch
,
what a goldfinch dandy you are
?
What air there is on his forehead:
black and red
,
yellow and white—
the keeps a sharp lookout both ways
,
won't look now
,
he's flown out of sight
.
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Checkpoint & LoRA

Checkpoint
ReV Animated
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