Of beaten wings rested,

a family in refuge midway through their journey.

Resolute guard he stands, watching the road,

watching the horizon remembered,

the heartache of calamity of the past,

a brother, a sister downed from the clouds,

ruin of their tragedy spread in feather and blood

and streaked atop asphalt, beneath rubber.

The beasts of this world seldom take care,

but move with wanton disregard,

foul breaths breathing,

engine stink and motor growling.

He stands, he meets the headlight gaze

or the pedestrian stare with a challenge:

Allow us passage South,

and move cautiously about us

for this gaggle is mine to protect,

and I will not see them trampled by your disinterest.

I will hiss and bite and charge the greater enemy,

I will throw myself against the twisted machinations of man,

if only to give those I love

time to fly away.