With the serin just don’t look at his face it’s just the blank face of a serin. Did you mean to search for the serin also in orchards, duller still its english name, or in the garigues during yuletide where we shone with this tiny finch to become modern yellow? But the serin’s hard not yellow. The siskin and the serin. The siskin and the serin and sylvia. But sylvia is seriously nearer the serin than the siskin. Sweet siskin-at-a-distance, you must now go off without an italicized synopsis. And with the serin shining the missing siskin sings, “Sylvia, I’m home” as he too freezes. The serin shining. “Here’s sylvia.” Scrub, shrub understory, scrub.