nature, paused by Isabella Donald

I sit

         a lumpy hillock

on a

         sheep-strewn tor.

the hills

             sing

their gently

             pounding ballads,

to serenade me

             welcoming me

home.

                           then I see

a bird

a bag

locked as one.

beak clamped in plastic tethers

pathetic screams

defining her

pathetic fight

bag rips

bird falls.

plummeting, drowning

She wails for home.