So well camouflaged she was,
waiting in the wings
to the left of the road.
A subtle movement caught my eye,
the arching of her elegant
finely feathered neck and headpiece
There was no time for a camera, only to stop
and watch her glide across the road
into the muted colorations of the underbrush
One last moment,
as I headed back into the world
from a brief retreat.
A singular Wild Turkey on her afternoon journey
Lovely, Lynn. Thank you.
Saw another arrive,
Just another turkey
Full of jive
Greyhound drops ‘em off on Vine.
Squabblin’ in front of Madame Tussaud’s
Gettin’ drunk on cheap wine.
They come to Hollywood chasing a dream,
Then chasing a dime. Then a line.
Eventually they start dabblin’ in cranberry sauce.
Trippin’ on tryptophan and strung out on gravy,
Hopes of stardom shattered, what’s it all mean?
Not really sure, but this turkey sure tastes great with collard greens.
Your words appear more fitting for the digitalized photograph pictured. Somehow Wehoville elected to exclude the two original photos submitted showing a Wild Turkey in all her traditional, natural grandeur. Many individuals in the city received the original format which had been previously published in The New York Times and New Yorker. Must have been a tryptophan moment of confusion.
There once was a man from Nantucket…
Besting others🙄
I could see it so clearly!
I love this. Send it to the New Yorker!
It’s already been published in the New Yorker and NYT. I’ll send you the original.
No, my mistake.Scratch that offer.
Lovely!
Thank you. Please contact Manny for the original submission with the Real Wild Turkey.
Thanks, Lynn! This was a lovely piece to wake up to on this day of gratitude.
You’re welcome. Sworn off consuming turkey ever since a flock of Wild Turkeys became my pals years ago.