the little bird chirps gently
a butcher hears its melody
I can't think of how to finish it. Basically, it was raining one morning and a little bird hid under my awning. It was dripping wet and it started chirping. I was watching it, and i was going to take a photo, then a butcher bird came out of absolutely nowhere and speared into it. By the time i decided to go out and see if i could help, they were entangled under the house and the butcher bird was pecking it to death. I was going to throw a rock at it, but the little bird looked really badly hurt. I didnt know if 'saving' it would mean it'd die slowly and painfully, or if it would actually stand a chance at recovering. I couldn't work out the ethics of the situation and it was dead before i could figure out what to do.
I dunno, that really got to me. But i cant figure out how to make a haiku out of it. What the hell is the lesson, or the semblance in nature? The little bird was chirping happily and got itself killed. If it had been quiet it still might have been killed. Butchers sit around all day looking for things to kill (oversimplifying)