When I was about five, my father took me to see a peacock that was living at a local pastor's garden. The memory is very vivid, it is the only memory I have of my father holding my hand. I also remember how excited he was to show me this amazingly beautiful animal, and how quiet we were in that damp shadowy wood, on a cool summer's day.
Peacock
It was a cool summer's day.
You held my hand as we
Slowly walked to the peacock's
Shaded yard.
A dazzle of bright green and blue
A huge fan, a rainbow of feathers
Strutting its imperial magnificence
Its beak and eyes cold, dark and sharp.
The peacock let out a piercing, unsettling call
Shattering the hushed silence we'd
Held with our breath.
Trudi Ralston
June 23rd, 2010- April 12th, 2012.
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