The Animals That Fly

I soar above the land

Using my feathers to fly

A strong wind takes me away.

My head turns

I look around

With my flock

I scream in horror.

Big machines with sharp knives

Slice through the beautiful, brown wood

Until the last trunk

Makes contact with the ground.

I fly North, South, East and West

Until I find

The last remaining branches of a tree

That has lots to learn.

I guard the sapling with all my life

The machines are coming

There's a sharp click, I take my last breath...

Then fall to the ground.