the guinea fowl
The barrow with
its groaning wheel
gives out its mournful
squeal
while dusk lets
fall its sudden cowl:
the guinea
fowl.
It’s seeking –
though the hour is late –
another fowl as
mate
to pass night’s
loneliness maybe
up in a tree.
They’ll share a
dogwood’s leafy gleam,
half sleep,
half wake, half dream,
and when their
ending then draws nigh
alone not die.
*
I’ve taken aim,
and at the sound
one’s fallen to
the ground;
the other with
wild strength takes flight
into the night!
To see the original poem, go to here
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