Bird Face (Hunter’s Song)

Beauty unsurpassed
Lighting through the grass
On a hunt for worms
Before the morning comes

Feathers intricately shape 
this mound of grayish-brown
Outlines, not a trace
Oh quaint and lovely bird face!

Your yellow beak
And dipping tail
Plumage preened out
Like a pirate sail
Your rosy breast
And in those beady eyes
I see reflections of sunrise

You snatched a living thread 
Of slippery pink
And took off toward the sky
I realized then that you, though sad but true
Could not be paired with I

Morning broke
The world awoke
Far off, you began to sing
I knew I could never fly for I 
Possess no wings

When winter came
You built a nest
High in my sturdy oak
And you came down to the darkening ground
Wearing your abundant plumage 
As a cloak

Feathers intricately shape
This mound of grayish-brown
Outlines, there are not a trace
Oh quaint and lovely bird face!

Though I try
I cannot see
Past your fine facade
Instead I wander, pleasantly free
Eyes on the sky to watch
A starry parade

At last you landed
Light as down
Right before me
On the ground

Took my bow, aimed for your delicate head—
Pulled back—wished, prayed
And shot—
And you were dead.
Triumphant I retrieved my prize
Stalked home with peace of mind

I'm rid of you once and for all—
For pride cometh before a fall.