Daily Note
Every day, a photograph, a poem. Wild Turkeys strut through our town, pecking across the lawn for seeds and the occasional slug. Tourists stop to take pictures, especially in spring when the full-feathered displays are most frequent during mating season.
They come to our yard to steal cat food we provide for the stray cats who have adopted us because we saved them from freezing to death two years ago and this year. So we feed the cats, but bring the food in to prevent the turkeys from invading.
Turkeys are huge. If you’ve seen Jurassic Park, you’ll recognize the velociraptor in their ancient history. Quite frightening. However, you do have to be bold to scare them away to deter them from roosting in your yard. Luckily, they have plenty of places to roost just outside of town. We have to be bold because the dog we got to chase them away thinks they are his friends and just watches them. He may be thinking about chasing though. He’s a funny dog.
Turkeys are beautiful birds, though. The colors of their feathers are iridescent in the sunshine. The feathers shine in different colors of purple and reds and greens and even yellow. They glimmer as they strut away from us. The photo doesn’t express the shimmering colors though. They are much brighter in person.
Poetry
A Gobbler
I am a wobbler,
Sheri Edwards
a gobbler,
a iridescent
bobber—
I parade
in the shade
I run
in the sun
I am gallinaceous
some say delicious
a pecker for seeds and buds
an occasional lizard or slug
I puff
I strut
I shimmer my stuff
feathers a-fluff
town or country
I
am
turkey.
03.29.24 089.365.24
Poetry/Photography
I wonder, if I draw a line... 