Love is in the Air

There are turkeys living down our road. They live there all year round, yet they surprise and delight me every time I walk past Duke’s place. Now that the weather is warming, the gobblers are puffing and preening along the roadside, eager to seduce any and every passerby. They are not picky. Being mistaken for a turkey hen is yet another one of those experiences I’d never had until we came to this place, like seeing bobcats. I imagine that one day I’ll be far, far away—in Ireland maybe, or Spain—remembering those bobcats. I like strolling the length of our road with several randy toms in tow. It’s not exactly the gardens of the Alhambra, but then, I am no turkey hen, though apparently I will do for now.

About Smallpeace

Michele Karas is a poet, essayist, and longstanding professional copywriter, who currently works for a top-five US book publisher. Her poems and prose have appeared in literary journals, including Tinderbox, THRUSH, Alaska Quarterly Review, and Narrative magazine, among others. Michele holds a BA in Journalism from San Diego State University and an MFA in Creative Writing from CUNY, The City College of New York. Find her on Twitter @small_peace.
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2 Responses to Love is in the Air

  1. Touch2Touch says:

    In all our years in the Berkshires, and the many turkeys wandering our way, I NEVER saw any so big and fat and grand — and randy?
    You are obviously the Queen of Sheba to whom they come to pay court, this bunch of good-looking guys!

    • Smallpeace says:

      Lord knows what they are fed, T2T, especially at Duke’s place, where chickens drink whiskey and goats sleep on sofas. But these turkeys did indeed seem taken with me.

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