Out Like a Lamb

Plumage

A thousand green eyes?

I hope the predators don't call your bluff.

It seems a risky proposition,
putting all your peafowl eggs
in such a fine and celebrated
feathered basket.

I ask it:
or are you flagging for a mate?

It seems that dragging iridescence
in the dirt would hurt your chances
(maybe even cause some
missed she-fowl romances).

Scientists have disagreed on it
of course, they always do but you
do not debate the so-called facts

not now or then or ever, when
just this:

a thousand green eyes
shift and smile, shimmering
opened by soft winds.



note ▼

April 10—Poem inspired by new information or scientific fact