a covey small tan and brown feathered avian sprites in brittle grass on desiccated hills hidden in plain sight perching still as death will my close presence them excite do they sense the ending that will mark their panicked fright? I'll move they'll billow forth in the vagaries of flight fluttering trajectory will intersect my sights wild beauty convoluted billowing feathers ignite ending in a tumbling stumbling failure of their flight their camouflage plumage flecked with stains of crimson light do they regret never seeing their progeny's delight? do they feel a longing for more than is their right? they will provide a meal for my family tonight