In Mexico The Birds Grow On Trees

Several colorful young roosters,

free rangers, on my street perched

in low hanging branches of a tree.

At that location, the chickens, dogs,

and a cat hang out with each other

in peaceable kingdomness.

Martial music in the town square where

I’m having coffee, loudspeaker chatter.

I wish the moment would last, but…

you know…

Brand New Mexican flag on a pole…

I wonder how long it will be there?

I’ll have breakfast now, though I’m

tired of eating,

tired of maintaining this losing battle.

I like seeing the happy animals because

they couldn’t care less.

They’re my teachers now.