NaPoWriMo 2017 Day Five: Observing Nature, An exercise in elegy (rough draft)

Somewhere in the different napowrimo sites this week was a prompt to write an elegy--Here's a nod to that exercise, written after hearing a writer friend read out a hilarious anecdote about a child's first time watching grandma slaughter a chicken on the farm.

Unfinished...draft only

Elegy to a Dead Chicken

Regal in living, once of
ample breast and wings in ermine
struts on tiny golden stilts,
forays through the kingdom,
crimson crown askew,
eyes, lighthouse beams probing
for delicate gold in the sand.

Ignominously dethroned,
rudely hobbled, pinioned
too briefly upon a rude column
itself a sacrificial tree.
How swiftly fallen from glory,
how bravely fought, the end,
annointed, this demise, in crimson.

Once royal, this body, cast aside
in favor of another, hopelessly
lunges toward the trajectory of every drop
frantic wings flailing to and fro,
fruitlessly seeking the nest.
Alas, no more fluffy chicks
will dry under that ample breast.

Silenced of cluck and shriek,
spared the hunt and peck,
endure the humiliation,
the defrocking, the burning fire.
Could I but bring back
the vision and the strut,
the purity of that royal court.
....
And then there's the whiff
of a fresh fried, pan fried
sit-down chicken dinner....
                               Shirley Smith Franklin

But oh (then) the (charm )--->need stronger word here-- allure, temptation, oilifactory siren song 
(allure is renewed, an olifactory siren--tantalizes--feast)
 that first whiff
of a pan-fried chicken dinner.