August 8, 2022

What a welter of grim poems I’ve been writing in the last weeks! A turkey hen and her five chicks have put my front garden on their forage schedule. This afternoon I was standing at the edge of the drive and they practically had to walk across my feet to get in. They whistle and twitter to one another constantly. I try to induce them to the back, where they'll be safer longer, but their tiny minds are made up.