The Red Flamingo (Terzanelle) Poem by Granville Holt

The Red Flamingo is the poets dread,
Its flight tracked over a land long lost
And here and there dropped a feather red.

Through blizzard wind of snow and frost
This grim, lone spectre flew on and on
Its flight tracked over a land long lost.

Cross oceans and desert a mute logion,
Past rivers and towns he kept his path,
This grim, lone spectre flew on and on.

I thought to arrow him in my wrath!
A wild cruel bird, a maddening sight!
Past rivers and towns he kept his path.

I arched my bow and held it right
Then he looked at me and chilled my blood,
A wild cruel bird, a maddening sight!

Upon my soul these seven words flood,
The Red Flamingo is the poets dread,
Then he looked at me and chilled my blood
And here and there dropped a feather red.