I could hear a clicking noise
coming from a mesquite tree
and began to look around
not sure what it might be.
Turns out the noise was a call,
the mating call of a cockoo bird
as he was standing tall
waiting for his call to be heard.
Then, nearby on the ground
his call was returned —
he began limb hopping down
to the sound he knew was earned.
— kenne
Our roadrunners are kooky but special! Good ode, kenne!
Roadrunners have a special place in our being.
The photo and poem made me smile.
Thank you for the comments and others I may not have replied to.