Quail Run
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Quail Run
The birds are quiet in the morning.
They eat the bugs on the ground, all around.
They are beautiful.
They are peaceful...
They are Quail.
By noon the rooster is in full form.
He is challenging all comers, to a fight.
No one is taking him seriously.
Instead, they call to each other,
with calm noises,
pretending to make them louder
then they should be... to hear.
The ladies are too busy to care,
they simply stare at the feeder for more.
They lay a dozen eggs,
and keep on going...
Twenty-one days to the next generation,
a cycle of perfection.
Later..., as the day has passed,
and the night threatens return...
The cat calls, the dog barks,
and the birds listen.
The music of the moment,
not lost on any of their ears...
only added,
the fears,
of the owl.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2022
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