I see her die right in front of me
run over, unsuspecting.
The wild bird's body lays there twisted but her head is held high,
life still in her eye.
She looks surprised, but calm...
And then she is gone.
I cry tears for the life lost and wonder if she hurt.
Across the road,
in an aviary tucked away in the corner of a perfectly manicured garden,
tiny canaries, candy coloured and picture perfect,
flap about bewildered...
I cry inside for the wild lives lost and wonder if they hurt.