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Wrote a poem
Transitions
To live life like a pheasant
Scratching the earth in peace:
Until
The sound of the dogs promises
That the hunters are coming
And the targets
Shall
Fly
Fly
Fly
To live life like a pheasant
Scratching the earth in peace:
Until
The sound of the dogs promises
That the hunters are coming
And the targets
Shall
Fly
Fly
Fly
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They do that.
Your poem has provoked a half-stanza of (Modern) Old Lore Metre, which I put on mastodon because that way it is not stuck in my brain, so there's that, for what it is.
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