You took the tree that used to be its home
Then burnt it, whirling smoke into its sky;
Industrally conspired to mask its cry.
You hunted it until it was alone.

At some point you decided you liked it,
Its song and colours as far as you went
So captured it for your entertainment
Then found that you had dulled and muted it.

You set it free and hoped there might be more
And luckily there were: they migrated
To sparse and safe countries and slowly bred.
You cheered it on its return to your shore.

You fed it freely, listened to its song,
Hummed as you refilled its chlorine bath.
Isn't it a stupid bird, you'd laugh,
All confidently, arrogantly wrong.

You joined it but much faster and you built
Huge slicers in the seascapes for its feed
Ingesting and swiping it for your speed
And unpicking its forests for a quilt

It drank the condensate from your AC
And rudely beat you to your raspberries.
You had to make it clear you were displeased
So netted everything to make it leave.

Your words sometimes suggest you really care
But it remembers how it used to live.
You shouldn't assume it wants to forgive
It's tired of you invading everywhere.