Empty

It may not surprise you to know I feel empty. The muse, she has flown. Farewell, muse! Enjoy the journey! Do you need to stay in quarantine?

I am feeling a bit haunted by the single magpie in my garden. S/he was complaining at 6am when I went out to feed the birds because the visiting cat, not a stray, not Daisy back, was around the back door. Caw, caw, CAW! Said the magpie. Just one? Why just one? Do you WANT to inflict sorrow upon me? There's no more SPACE for sorrow here. All my EMPTY is filled with EMPTINESS, ffs. There's no room for what you have to offer.

Later, driving home, 11 hours later, to be exact, there was a single magpie in my carriageway. Like, WHAT? you're too smart for this! This is a MOTORWAY!!!! What are you on, bird??? I braked, the bird rose and almost skimmed the bonnet of my car, and then I waved apologies at the articulated lorry behind me. I nearly died, nearly KILLED, for a bird.

Above, in the trees that line the lanes, black birds (crows?) were roosting. Sitting in their twiggy messy nests conveniently situated for roadkill and traffic fumes. Looking out at the traffic. Inhaling particulates. I wept again at their short lives shortened by lung cancer or asthma or emphysema.

This is not the world I want to live in, cursed by and cursing the birds.