Pheasants
A few more pheasants step a field
flown down at mad angles somewhere
tall in prairie grass under a short
sky
searching, searching, before take
off
Their famous colors, rings, feathers
and claws spread, making
footnotes
squeak-squawk along pecking ground
grousing scalic insect and seed
walking festivals of feather they
are
but at a sudden start they launch
glory wings spread low to the
ground
and quickly, quickly beauty
disappears
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