Fire
By Louisa J
The wind whips my feathers
Looking at the ground below
At the landscape I called home,
Burning.
The stench reaches up
The fire clawing at the trees
It rages on, their water doing nothing
If only they knew -
How they used to live with the land.
My wings flap
Searching for a new home
The trees I loved crickle and crack.
My home is gone.