A peckish moment

A plump bird, the soft grey downy feathers looked warm and cosy, protecting the vulnerable breast.
Brown legs designed for balancing, the muscles are taunt and tense, the perfect drumstick.
Bright eyes are closed.
His beak is open.
Red berries just ripe, ready to eat glisten and shine among glossy green leaves.
Not a game bird ready for a pie.
A pigeon gorging himself in the wintery holly.

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