The Crumpled Corpses Have Forgotten All

The crumpled corpses have forgotten all sounds a bit like that bit, the lucky crumpled to the clogged shot clean. They're dead, they've forgotten everything, it's all okay. But if we go to the end of the actual sentence onto the next line, the crumpled corpse is have forgotten all the coveys' joys of strong or gliding flight. The last three lines and I love them. So these partridges, through some avian instinct, too deep for our understanding, are seeking the friends, seeking those birds that they have been linked together from the nest with. And when the planet lamps the coming night, the few survivors seek those friends