I saw a cardinal flying over the sandy shore of a riverbank--
It's wings flapping in the cool spring air. . .
  I wanted to shoot it.  Kill it.
 And see its red blood soak into the sand below.

I saw a jay perched on the limb of an old sycamore tree--
Resting in the sunlight shining throught the leaves.
  I wanted to shoot it.  Kill it.
 And see its red blood drip from the sturdy branch.

I saw a pigeon on a corner of a building on 34th street--
Pecking at the wet ground for something to eat.
  I wanted to shoot it.  Kill it.
 And see its red blood drain into the street.

I saw a hummingbird hovering over a tall flower--
Preparing to drink from nature's beautiful cup.
  I wanted to shoot it.  Kill it.
 And see your red blood cover each petal.

In writing "The Color of Birds" I wanted to use the juxtaposition of a beautiful animal with violence to create a kind of "to whom this may apply" message that killing animals for fun is just plain sick. I had fun with the title. Originally I had described each bird with a color such as the red cardinal or the blue jay and just called it "The Birds", but I removed those color descriptions and added the color description "red" to the blood and renamed the poem The Color of Birds. I'm not sure if I like the poem, but I enjoy watching the expressions on the faces of the people who read it.