the guinea fowl
The barrow with its groaning wheel
gives out its mournful squeal
while dusk lets fall its sudden cowl:
the guinea fowl.
It’s seeking – though the hour is late –
another fowl as mate
to pass night’s loneliness maybe
up in a tree.
They’ll share a dogwood’s leafy gleam,
half sleep, half wake, half dream,
and when their ending then draws nigh
alone not die.
I’ve taken aim, and at the sound
one’s fallen to the ground;
the other with wild strength takes flight
into the night!
To see the original poem, go to here