Dear little bird,
You have become trapped under the netting
Over my neighbour’s cabbages.
A state of dire panic
You exercise every muscle in your body
In an effort to be free of that spiteful web.
I am moved with pity and anger.
I try to help
But I need a knife to cut you free.
Now you lie limp in my hands.
I want to cry.
I fear you are dead.
You are a pathetic mousy little thing.
But when you are free
You are gone
Faster than an arrow
Fired from the bow of a strong but terrified warrior.
Your lifeless body
Is transformed in an instant
You leave me an angry wreck.
You fooled me.
You took me for a predator
And you believe you gave me the slip.
I cannot expect thanks
For I am culpable.
How many little birds are murdered
In my name?