Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Rooster Love

     The chickens are always so much fun to watch, but I especially enjoy watching the roosters.   They know their job is to protect the girls, so they crow alarm when a hawk flies overhead and crow about supper when I take slop out to share with the hens.  But, they also love to crow for attention.  They crow in the morning, long before the sun comes up.  They crow in the hen house. They crow outside.  They crow just because they can.  They are cock-a-doodle Carusos, standing tiptoe, reaching deep into their diaphragms for air, and belting out melodic morning arias.

      But, they don't crow when they are trying to seduce the ladies.  Besides living to protect the hens, roosters also exist just so they can get them some chicken love.  When a rooster wants love, he is strangely silent.  He morphs from a sassy soloist to a shy salsa dancer.

The rooster struts
and scratches
and crows
He jumps to the left
and bounces on his toes.
He waggles his wattle
and he cocks his eye,
quicksteps to the right
when the hen passes by.

The hen scratches seeds
with her eyes on the ground
She never looks up, 'cause
she's always looking down.

The rooster on her right
isn't nearly as thrilling
as the bug in the ground
for which she is drilling.

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