we hear, then see, plastic packaging caught in the trees, fluttering, and three nests of plastic, grass and twigs, remnants before the leaves. i think of plastic people, the zappa song about fake people, and i read there's plastic now in the highest mountains and the deepest part of the sea, even in people's bloodstreams. birds must be befuddled, with plastic nests and plastic eggs, and so people you can't blame them, they look the same, but they're plastic people now, they can't help but be.