Like a broken bird.
No flight available.
Only the memory of soaring.
Grounded.
Disruption of a journey.
Still, noticing.
Can she ever be wild again?
Will she make do in captivity
Or is she the more unlikely to adapt?
Flying only a romantic remembrance
As she lays with her hollow bones
And the aftermath of her inevitable plight.
Nature wastes nothing.
She will replenish the Earth
However the outcome.