One and Then Another


One and then another
and then another just the same
The dark and living clouds descend
with the thunder of a billion wings 

A mighty mass of movement
The thick and musty stench
An unheard of sound surrounding
the breaking of the branch 

Here they come!- the cry is heard
Then movement on the ground
A deadly storm is coming quick
with greed and violent sounds 

With pole or net or gun
the targets are the same
Though a million are left for dead
the loss is seen as gain 

Then away the clouds arise
A billion to their fate
dashed to the ground from different skies
to pillow, plate, or crate 

The living clouds descend
Each one marked with a numbered wing
Billions are millions are thousands
and then – one is left to sing


*david Staley


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