In splender I was created. I know these wings are glorious. But if my captives would have trained me to use these sabors for war, this instinct, now vestigial, lost with no use. I would be proud. Of some thing.
So I wait, the present now history, and reminisce on my Mandarin ancestors. Oh those great warriors of soil and sky. So magestic, so free, so wild. But those are the days of old and these are hard times. All that is left of ages past are these pretty feathers and a scarlet face, and hints of freedom which lie cold and still in a cave known as a "pin". Do you own this unmotivated imperative to fight for freedom, but would relent to close your eyes and submit to sleep?
Here they come. Goodnight and farewell.
4 comments:
Dangit! I don't have a padded shoulder hunting shirt to shoot my 20 gauge this weekend.
oh... by the way, nice birds Korean! That's more my style hunting; the action style sport, bird dogs, nervous coveys, doubles on the fly, bang-bang, and abng-bang again in less than 5 minutes.
...pheasant being kicked up by guides...
Yeah, kind of takes the sport out of it. Might as well go clay shooting, or clay hunting as my wife calls it. I told her that clay pigeons are a real tough bird to cook.
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