Birds Stung Silent

Listen to poem:

This morning was
quite unlike the last.
Stooping branches held
no breath of song.
No trills, no calls,
no sudden flutter flaps
of wings beating air.
Silence only broken
by the hushed quiver
that's something's wrong.

The wind lifted to
stir the birds awake,
to shake their perches
off their quiet
interlude, 
but all to no avail.

For the sprays to kill weeds
and baits to kill 
rodent pests as well,
had unintended
well foretold and known 
blatant consequences 
killing birds as well.

Stung by humans who
believe that nature
exists for their convenience,
and that it is appropriate,
to send innocent bystanders
to hell, to where the birds 
fell,
silent.

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