The Roadrunner
ā”
Dusty feathers, legs so fleet,
Roadrunner on the desert street.
Cousin to the cuckoo kind,
But staying earthbound, hard to find.
Southwest sun, a baking land,
He dashes quick across the sand.
Can outrun a human stride,
With long tail waving, full of pride.
A rattler's hiss, a deadly threat,
The roadrunner's not beaten yet.
He strikes with beak, a feathered blur,
And wins the fight, for sure, for sure.
A lizard caught, a tasty prize,
He thumps it hard before his eyes,
Then swallows down with eager gulp,
A desert dinner, bit by bit.
A snake too long? No need to fret,
He eats it slow, we haven't finished yet
A little here, a little there.
A crazy dinner beyond compare
So next you see a feathered streak,
Don't underestimate, or speak
Of common birds, not worth a glance.
The roadrunner's more than just a chance.
A desert hero, brave and bold,
A story whispered, to be told.
T.M.Solvang
