Mating Season
She meandered through
new spring grass, startling bugs
shortening their lives, taking her fill
seemingly unimpressed
with grandeur displayed
solely for her benefit.
His swagger almost took him
airborne, his tail feathers spread
into a fan of splendor
his princely prance seemingly
not even a blip on her view
Our appearance on the scene
assured his utmost strut, trumpeting
at us as we laughed and mocked
his silly gobble
Yet his strategy succeeded
She now sits on her nest
at the edge of the yard
under the hickory tree, just beyond
where the mower runs
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2015
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