June Forecast XXIX: 99.9% Chance a Rooster Will Peck at You Soon
I walk outside, curl toes in grass,
wait for my muse. Right away, a rooster
cock-a-doodle-doos. A rooster?
So many have chickens these days—
Yesterday, a chicken pecked at
my grandchild’s cinnamon crumpet
from our tiny table in an English garden
tea room. He clung to me: I’m scared!
But this morning, from far away,
these sounds are not too frightful—
and, like the news, I’ll keep all
at bay again today. Although
those cock-a-doodle-doos do grow
closer. Soon we will all not be tall
enough or our ancestors not birthrighted
enough, and, oh dear us—
us with all our rainbows of zinnias.
6 thoughts on "June Forecast XXIX: 99.9% Chance a Rooster Will Peck at You Soon"
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The rooster! Backyard chicken ordinances specifically ban roosters for very good reasons…
Thank goodness for the rainbow of zinnias. 🙂
Consummately crafted. Oh, that rooster.
Zinnias associated with endurance. May it be so. Well done, Michele
Yep, that rooster. And thankful in the rush of storm we have carpets of “rainbows of zinnias.”
Great use of the rooster’s call to evoke a larger and much more consequential call…
I probably deserve it from the rooster. I love how you open into this poem with “I walk outside, curl toes in grass,/wait for my muse…” They were there!
A subtle rebuke to the threats around us, a warning to be vigilant when the rooster crows.