the fat sun
lolls low in the morning sky
pine trees line the street
casting long shadows
across the asphalt
a runner hunched half over
speeds through a gap
in traffic
following
silent train tracks
i wait for the crows
who have found something
unknowable but edible
in the grass
i taste the dust
of the field behind my
childhood home
chickens, horses
beyond the field
a neighbor of sorts
whose peacock
is crying
——
It’s STILL National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 20
Check out these sites:
Words and Feathers 
Love the poem
Thanks very much!
You are welcome ❤️
My friend this is a really lovely one, well done, gorgeous work xo
Thank you, Candice. I’m always happy to see you stop by!
Do you really have a neighbor with a peacock? I like the part when the crows eat something in the grass that’s unknowable! — sounds fun.
~PR
I did as a kid. His house was across a major street on the other side of the field. That bird was loud!
I think the bird was horny, and I’m not saying this to be funny, but I’ve read that male peacocks take their latter part of their name very seriously. I’m glad you didn’t hop over the fence to see or comfort him.
~PR
Ha ha ha! Me too! Glad I wasn’t some bird’s boy toy.
You may have turned out to be a hummingbird instead. 😀
Ha ha ha. I think that’s dirty, but I’m not sure anymore.
Lmao! It’s poetry, so you can decipher my words any way you want, baby.
Ah, you’re so fun. ❤
~PR