Tag Archives: roosters

Ten Minutes To Eleven

At ten minutes to eleven

It is still not still

 

A mosquito worries its way across the screen door

Looking for a gap

As my exhalations send it into blood frenzy

 

A leaf drifts to earth

Odd, since it’s early summer yet

I wonder if a caterpillar has eaten it through

 

A child tugs at her father impatiently

He’s talking to a neighbour at the end of the driveway

Postponing some outing

Now her singsong Daddy, Daddy

Increases in volume and frustration

 

Six birds trade places on two trees

 

At ten minutes to eleven

It is still not still

 

A rumour of a breeze

Stirs branches randomly

 

A seaplane flies overhead

Its pilot intent on the descent the plane is poised to make

A passenger looks out the bubble window

Wondering at the mundane lives playing out below

 

While the rooster next door proclaims his sovereignty

Reassuring his hens

Ruling his dominion

 

Insects cry

 

I hear traffic humming in the distance

 

At ten minutes to eleven

It is still not still

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

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Little Brown Rooster

Little brown rooster

Sings the blues all day

Calling for his little hens

Singing that he wants to play

He struts and dances

They dance away

Little brown rooster

Sings the blues all day

Little brown rooster

Sings the blues all day

As nighttime falls

Things fade to black

That hen house is hopping

Like a jumped up Cadillac

Little brown rooster

Don’t sing the blues at night

He’s too busy dancing

With those hens and getting tight

Little brown rooster

Don’t wake up at dawn

He only gets up at half past jazz

With a quiet kind of yawn

Little brown rooster

Sings the blues all day

Little brown rooster

Sings the blues all day

David Trudel  ©  2013

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Chanticleer

Roosters crow

Throughout the day

Not just at dawn

The neighbors’ new rooster

Sleeps late before trumpeting his supremacy

Punctuates the heat of the day

With a plaintive call

That echoes on the wind

That rustles the shade

I imagine he’s calling to his harem

That he wants to get laid

They will of course

Being laying hens

More than a little

Fowl

 

 

David Trudel  ©  2012

 

 

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Filed under Poetry