8.2.08

it's not every morning that a flock of turkeys just lands in the dog park.

perhaps it's their size that makes them unseemly for the air,
or else the fact that the only time we ever hold them in our arms
is when they're frozen solid.

down they came from somewhere out of the left, (capsizing moment)
and alighted into the field of my vision
like a family claiming a spot of shady green for their picnic.

until the dogs noticed.
and took berzerk after those hapless parachutists, surprised out of their minds
up into the bare oaks just in time. while catching their breath they took count of eachother by
overwrought yelps that we interpreted as
"are you alright?"
"yeah, i'm alright. what the hell just happened?"
"i don't know. goddamned mapquest."

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