The guns are silent now

packed away into shiny cars

with much back slapping

and well bred haar-ha-hars.

 

The birds are flying well,

not too high - or fast,

plenty of time to 'aim and squeeze'

and watch them tumbling,

 

tumbling,

 

tumbling

onto early morning grass,

 

necks routinly rung -

and then in braces -

          - strung and hung.

 

Shooters retreat for a warming flask

then return to complete their blood-lust task.

 

Displaying their poise and immpeccable stance

they showcase their perfect aim

while continuing their 'sport' without  pause

'till many more birds are slain.

 

Waiting in line,

        (while beaters beat)

 

picking off birds,

         (in their panicked retreat)

 

then watching retrievers'    -    retrieve.

 

                 -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  - 

 

          The killing fields are empty now,

          silence fills the air,

          while inflated egos' power home,

                                         humanity despairs.