January fourth, five-sixteen p.m.,
I trudge outside because I hear them.
I share the fowl mood of my feathered friends.
Our hearts rend.
Zoom in and zoom out,
My photos of nature
Are now of a peril without doubt.
 |  |
|---|
 |  |
|---|
I make no cropping, color, or light adjustments to this subject, this is a document of fact.
You see, or you turn your back.
 |  |
|---|
 |  |
|---|
At five-fifty p.m., backing in the front door,
I can't look anymore.
But I thaw my hands and go out again.
Eighteen more minutes I'll shoot the gassy red-gray sky (that will be Part 2).
What do they see, looking around, like I do?
 |  |
|---|
Like us, animals' hearts can break.
Can they also take respite and cry?
Thank you, and Steem on,
MH
Photos by Cubbyworks, Canon Powershot SX520HS
Upvote and help Paint get a real bed!
