The Twenty-fifth Poem

 Nearly grown baby peacocks from Next Door in mid-September 2022

The Twenty-Fifth Poem September 18, 22

Yesterday I was bold. I wrote

a sestina. I wasn’t sure I could.

But I did. It’s not brilliant but

it works. It’s about our backyard

visitors: the ducks and the peacocks.

They fly over the fence between

our house and next door’s. Does

our neighbor know they fly away?

They do return, and all this happens

early.and secretly. The peacocks

wait on our roof, waiting for Tim.

to scatter some chicken feed

outside the coop. I don’t often

see them, but I can hear them.

Both ducks and peacocks follow

their mothers. Imagine peacock

babies, now nearly as big as their

mother. And in my kitchen

cupboard I found a cup with a

peacock in splendid colors: tiny

head, big, beautiful tail feathers,

now my tea cup. I also decided

to publish my last book, Frost

and Sun. I’ll find the money,

raise the money. I will do it.

With help. Why not?