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Guinea Hen
by Kristina Woodhillher convent walls
self imposed
solidly mortared
around brick rigid ideals
her shroud of silence
constructed to shout notice
neighbors no longer allowed,
penance must be served
our sins sending her inward, yet aloft
above our honest stumbling attempts
to communally solve life's weedy problems
now guinea fowl
added to her spring flock
shocked summer air
attempting to absorb their raucous
comments, shrieks,
over-the-top tsk-tsk-tsking
males cry
chi chi chi chi chi
see see see see see
females screech their two syllables worth
get back, get back, get back, get back
watch dogs
with clipped black and white
precisely patterned wings
tight flock of pointing beaks
dominating their back yard
I suspect her of
adopting a ventriloquist stance
channeling her curses
in cacophonous chorus
while neighbors raise eyebrows
at eight absurd birds
yet making note of her long hair
taking on a curiously feathered texture
whispering how her long fingers
more and more
resemble
scratching claws 07/14/2019 Author's Note: neighborhood pesticide wars, drat...
Posted on 07/14/2019
Copyright © 2025 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 07/14/19 at 08:41 PM Quite the barnyard commotion and allegory Kristina. Well laid out verbal and imagery! |
| Posted by Johanna May on 07/15/19 at 12:11 AM I always believe people who come in close vicinity to our lives are there for a reason, they are suppose to learn from you without you making any effort to teach them and vice versa, their presence is a letter from the universe. Maybe she is teaching you about patience lol. Charming poem. Very descriptive, I can hear it too. |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 07/17/19 at 04:21 PM *Stellar* |
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