wild
turkeys scurry across corn fields
at 18 mph. foxes howl far from here.
kentucky has no fancy wildlife refuge
for them. what kentuckian would
pay $5 a carload to see wild turkeys?
certainly not me. the dogs i walk
hold them in no higher regard
than any other creature that dares dash
across their path. they break free of me,
leashes trailing, into ravine. and so I
go, run after, tumble down steep slopes,
startled shrieking, into shallow puddle
to find dogs barking up to a flock
roosting high above. long months
of leaf decay sticks to me. they call
this the herb layer? there is a smell.
i look round. realize i am the sight.
the animal on display–in disarray.
wild human. no one would pay $5
a carload to view me, either.
or would they?
8 thoughts on "wild"
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Ha! Love the vividness and the topsy-turvy aspect of this.
Love the detail, especially the scurrying speed of turkeys. 🙂
Great turn of thought at the end!
I really enjoyed the rhythm here and how you twisted the poem at its end!
Love it. I can relate to the dogs. I am always in awe when I catch a wild turkey in flight. I would also pay $5 to see wild turkeys though I have a Bourbon Red Turkey in my backyard.
Fun ride and the thought evoked at the ending is wonderful.
lol a very witty twist at the end indeed!
Love the humor!