Why aren’t there any birds? A poem

Why aren’t there any birds?

 

Why aren’t there any birds? She asked,

Slapping the fly that had landed on her arm.

Why aren’t the trees all full of sweet song in the mornings?

As she festooned the ant’s nest with powder.

I miss the sweet trill of birds, she reflected

As she sprayed herself with mosquito repellant.

Birds are so beautiful. I am so sad they are all gone,

As she doused the vegetables with insecticide.

I miss their trill and colour, she said sadly

As the electric zapper sparked and a singed body fell.

Oh! She cried

A poor butterfly

As the brightly coloured wings smouldered.

 

Opher – 3.5.2018