The Guineas of Gardiner Creek

by Brad Davis

There’s this old Manor, decrepit, ticky,
patrolled by dappled tick – eaters
clawking endlessly their grey, clown–
headed blather — decay, decay — senseless
feathered iambs, making endless
rounds around those ticky grounds.
They serve and annoy — occasion
the occasional smirk, laugh, dissimilar
verse — make silence sweeter.  Ah,
the possibilities they inspire, those petty
red – lipped bleaters — today, today — the sun
rising on that ticky, decrepit Manor.
Dappled, senseless, useful, they are
all among themselves happy, most of all.