You must login to vote
The turkeys have returned:
itís late September.
They stalk suburban streets and grassy yards,
high-stepping, iridescent, regal.
The squirrels, rats and bluejays know their caste,
they dodge and weave
to cheat a cruel tarmac landscape
of their daily bread; their scared pariah lives.
These turkeys bring to town the forest grandeur
of a wild, abundant summer.
They cross our roads with tourist unconcern,
exploit our awe, disdain our dangers.
How long before the urban sprawl
drives wolves and bears to join the rush-hour fray,
defying man and risking roadkill?
How long before these wild birds
forget their pride and melt into the ragged feral hordes,
caste and survival both assured,
(the battle won to lose the war)
seduced and conquered?