Trudging through the barren marshland, the day
grey-cloud-locked on all sides. An expanse
of grass punctuated by water
and a strange shape in the distance. Spread out,
wings splayed, white plumage still brilliant.
I move closer. Are you ill, old, alone?
Its orange beak still bright, but the light’s gone.
Where are the mourners? The funeral cortege
lamenting the loss of one of nature’s
finest souls? But it’s just us here.
Alone.
Laura Allison
Laura is a writer inspired by the power of nature to help us explore our inner worlds. She lives in London, UK, and is always seeking connection with the natural world.
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