Golden-eyed pigeons fly in pairs Grey squeaklings Linking space "Swans mate for life," The old git on the news turns to the camera For the last word "Life" Even the wizened are media-savvy Swan families sticking their beaks Mounted on long thin necks Into other family members' business The sickness of one means the rest Won't go to fill their Swan-bellies No they'll stick together Floating around until the poison kills That bullet was outlawed years ago Lead shell-casings litter the area The damaging quotient can't be picked up Can't be totally removed With even the best of the finest-toothed combs He was a family-swan Dead Bit the bullet Heavy head hanging on a long limp neck