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scent of flight

A drowsy numbness follows the

   sudden thrill, a

ringed-neck

drops

Senses drowning the muddied

    waters of the Lethe, its

red wattle

limp

Mainly melanistic,

   tan feathers inked with red

                black-dotted breast          

still                        

Heaving a little, head drooping

   into the water where

                Linneaus swims,

laconically listing,

“principum mensis dicatur!”

prince of the month

shot                        in a Montana field.


Later,  when his

   colored plumage was

            plucked &     dangling from

our dogs' collars,

   I tasted the scent of

flight            in his thigh.

 

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