Monday, May 30, 2022

I noticed a quail similar to the one below when I looked out the window during a mighty wind storm. There he was trying to keep from toppling over. As soon as he disappeared from view I ran for my computer.  He didn't seem worried, but seemed a bit puzzled, as the wind nearly toppled him several times. He inspired this poem.


The young cock quail
huddles in the wind
Tipping like a tottery
old man, seeking balance.
His crest flutters like
a flag in the stiff gale.
Huddled near a small
Japanese maple,
he turns like a
weather vane.
His beauty is stunning,
with iridescent stripes
that glow on his sides. His
gray-blue feathers

He sports a
stunning rich brown

I’ve never seen one
so close before. I peer
from the window, and
marvel at his beauty.

And wonder at
his solitude.

Sandy Mason 
May 19, 2022

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