Friday, August 21, 2009

Good-bye Thanksgiving

...he left the gate open, and the coyote seized her opportunity. We found you by the orchard. We are meat eaters too, and this half-chewed reminder proves everyone loves a turkey dinner. Happy coyote, happy coyote pups. Happy vultures, happy crows.

The three remaining guinea hens stick close to Christmas.

LESSON LEARNED
Predators and opportunists live by their own rules. If you don't want to lose something you've carefully nurtured, make sure you maintain your fences and close the GATES.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Dances with Chickens

(Thank you Reg for the title)


Dances with Chickens


One day I will have an immaculate garden
with a deer fence, six-feet high
made of silvered wood. A sprinkler
system I turn on with the twist of my wrist
and squash that don't lie in a green mattress of grass.

One day I will write full pages of work, my train
of thought uninterrupted by the Simpson's latest mischief
or a request for food.

I might keep our rooster, even though he dances and flies
at me with his spurs,
his 20-hen harem long gone
to the slaughterhouse.

What will he do with those nesting boxes? Who
will he show the worm to, no
favorite to coo?

One day we will lie by a pool together
my husband and I, and wish for the noise of teenage boys
even though the price is a wrinkled pool liner
and a bottom gritty from unwashed feet.

The turkeys come toward my daughter, shaking
the feed bucket. They are so loyal and grateful
and wary.

One day it will be silent here, no bumping into dogs
the kids insisted on, no disgruntled cats
only the obsessive hum of neighborhood mowers.

You all will be gone from the messy garden
and vases I put down
will remain on the counter, unbroken
in a house
as still as a snapshot.

On strong, long wings
my children fly.