Sitting on the post. Feathers ruffled.
Brow furrowed. Disdainful and fair.
Turbulence swirls about you and that
funny avian posturing.
Somehow looking bigger than you are.
Storm clouds descend and darken the sky.
Your skills, that good.
A tempest on the sea if you were
Wrathfully deliberate. Delicate.
Challenging all of nature,
threatening any who dare
Hostile and lovely thing.
Do you know that you make me smile!
Beautiful, irate creature.
I’ll stay right here, and admire you from a distance,
lest I approach and you remove my eyes.
I know that you can hear me whisper…
I’m mad for you.