Unarmed Hunter

Oh, what a bright morning
which cannot compete
with your vibrant feathers.
“Why, thanks.”
I love how the black,
brown-red blend.
“Such wonder. I know.”
Just look at that tail which
spreads like a Chinese paper fan.
“Nature’s an artist.”
Work of a goddess! And that long neck—
with your beak like a tenor sax
mouthpiece. Can you whistle?
“Oh, how I wish.”
I love the way you gobble.
Like a bass giggle
in my stomach. And just look at those legs.
“Aren’t they a bit thick?”
Just perfect—
with any side dish, and your wings—
fragranced with cranberry sauce. Perfect with
biscuits, baked potatoes, collard greens,
“But I’m—”
walnuts and olives. You’re delicious.
I mean … you’re prestigious.
“I should go.”

I never knew you could fly this high!

“Neither did I!”

Tia Paul-Louis