Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FOR A GOLDEN PHEASANT, by GENE BOARDMAN HOOVER



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FOR A GOLDEN PHEASANT, by                    
First Line: All that remains of your bright animation
Last Line: And for his vast amusement you must die!
Subject(s): Pheasants


All that remains of your bright animation
Are these bronze feathers glinting in the sun;
Your gold-flecked wings are folded as if wooden,
Stilled by the ruthless thunder of a gun.

No more the uplands or the meadows call you;
No more your amber eyes reflect the sky...
There stalks upon the earth a blood-crazed creature,
And for his vast amusement you must die!





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