Meleagris Gallopavo

you

feathered

in bronze

nurtured

from a lineage

charted without

straight lines

pecking

at kernels

of wisdom

seeds of

whole grain

meandering

through

yesterday's

mown meadow

returning

to the orchard

or the farm

or a preferred roost

until the un-clocked

day you won't

walking through

shadows through

dappled light

when sleeker birds

with sharper beaks

longer talons

choose flight

so very

other

wise

inviting me

at each

unexpected or

preordained

encounter

to take in

what you offer

with your

ridiculous

ludicrous struts

with your untoward

stepping over your

moving this way or that

before disappearing

in the uncharted

undergrowth  

preaching

and repeating

your wobbled

garbled sermon

about how my fate

in this life

or the next

is to give up

the latin and

simply be me