At the time, he was only three.
It was in the spring.
Robins danced happily in the yard.
Grandma pointed this out.
Oh, come to the window and see.
He came to her to look
And his wondrous eyes did find
that it wasn't a Robin,
To her he said it was a bird.
That was a favorite memory.
To her it was very precious.
To him it was absurd.
