Panic against the window,

slowly realising its plight

and anxiety levels rising,

it nears death,

exhaustion and dehydration;

in the sun magnified window

of Lime Street Station.

It lowers its wings and

wonders where it all went wrong,

why all the glass and concrete,

where did the fields go,

the flowers, the hedges…

its heart saddened,

sugar water suddenly poured,

dripping from above and for a while

it struggles, Herculean

in its fight to stay alive

and finally after two hours

and the clock of the station

imposing its will

against the metal mammoths

seeking time to be on time,

it crawls tentatively

and shakes its wings,

life restored

not an ounce of

Frankenstein’s Monster about it,

it fly’s off

and it has no idea how it still

came to be.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016