Up flew a fieldfare

Up flew a fieldfare

A migratory bird

Where does it call home

Where does a journey start

Is it where he

Feathers a nest

What if they put up a net

To protect the native fauna

From invasion

Would he fly back

Or die on the outside

Looking in

Birds from all over

The known world

To be excluded

Without a breeding permit

The driver for flight

A matter of survival

There is no mandate for

The requisition

Of landing grounds

To make safe arrival

A matter of wealth

Gated compounds

To keep out the hoi polloi

The breeding grounds pure

Only pink Flamingos

Can be seen

From my window

I don’t have to learn the language

I am the language

The world is flat

No one can ever make sense

Of that

Fly too far

And there will be no

Coming back

There is nothing out there

But the rain

Even the geese

Have flown off again

In a vee formation

Are they coming

Or going to Canada

I hope they have packed

A toothbrush

As well as their papers