Making noises and having fun in the air,
As if they had come for the picnic,
From the seashore, which was their home.
Aware, omnipresent, detached,
Floating in the blinding white sky.
Not forcing themselves,
Just going with the flow
Silently grazing innocent cattle,
Unaware that, They will soon become,
Breakfast for humans.
I stopped seeing…
And just drove…