Nearly every day
wild turkeys, twelve or so,
gather on that grassy hill
and lift their heads as we drive by.
We wonder why they picked that hill
and not some other.
Perhaps they look at us and wonder too:
“Can’t they find themselves a hill,
stop this endless search, and come to rest?
Surely we turkeys know what’s best.”
JDG
aholdingplace 
Don’t they though! We se
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I like this one. It’s amazing that you can think like a turkey!
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Poetic perspective charmingly addressed – very well done.
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