Mating Season at Puddingstone Dam

Blackbird expands his epaulets,

puffs up those otherworldly scarlet blazes

edged with bright yellow.

Brilliant wing patches slash

 a window into another technicolor universe.

His tiny clawnails grip the stems

of the golden mustard forest,

swaying eight feet tall,

giant in this rainy spring.

Song sparrow in the scrub

says Chip chip, screeeeee.

Every species sings this morning.

Every throat swells with confidence.

Everyone sings I’m the best, I’m the best!

The ladies must be impressed.

We all have our tricks

but most of us aren’t so sure we’ll win.

March 2016

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