Wild Turkeys by Richard Taylor

Wild Turkeys

by Richard Taylor

Rushed to reach the dentist's

and scratch one more item

off my list of things to do,

I hurry down the porch steps,

stopping, car door half open,

as I glance beyond the porch steps,

to see not one or two but seven turkeys

foraging on the hillside,

lean, each cupped in its feathery sheen

like ancient scales or bark,

each going its own unruffled way,

wattled bills picking who knows

what—seeds or insects—

except one preening in the sunlight,

wings flexed open in airy languor,

clear ground between it

and anything like harm.

They gabble. They dip

with each mincing step

as though warming to flightlessness,

Slowly, in some long association

dyed deep in the wing,

in a tongue for which

there are no words,

they answer to light,

working their way upward

toward the treeline at the crest,

past the furry shadow of a lone cedar.

Whichever way they turn is home.

I also have a poem called Wild Turkeys--it us one of my first published poems. But in mine, my husband and I were in the mountains of West Virginia, a place where you should expect to see wild turkeys. And at the end of mine, the mountain shakes--Richard Taylor's turkeys are much more serene.

There is so much clever word play in this poem! And the ending! But first, let's start at the beginning.

Right away, our teeth are set on edge (pun intended)--a trip to the dentist, plus that ever-annoying to-do list. Anyone 15 and over can relate. There's a slant rhyme in reach and scratch and again with scratch and glance, and "the porch steps" is repeated. And then this conversational and humorous

to see not one or two but seven turkeys

which should bring every reader back to someone they know--a great teller of stories--relating a tale and overemphasizing not one, not two, but SEVEN. Our bond to the speakerm created with the dentist and that dang to-do list, is complete.

The speaker's description of the birds includes an exact rhyme with one word starting and the rhymed word ending a line: lean and sheen. Their feathers are like bark or ancient scales, and they are eating, except one who is (rhyme alert!) preening.

We also get sunlight, which will soon be rhyming with flightlessness and light; mincing (remember galnce?); dip and step; and harm and warming. There are many other instances of word play here--this poem is so full of rich language and it is done so well.

Then, the birds all head off, answering a call the speaker cannot comprehend. Working/way/upward and toward/tree/crest and crest/past and whichever/way and lone/home and crest/cedar and on my word--I am just looking at the last four lines!

And then that beautiful last line--Whichever way they turn is home. I guess this is true of all wild animals--they can bed down, eat, mate, relax, play, etc. wherever, unlike us with our houses and their porches and driveways. The poem starts at one home and ends with another, one very relatable and the other surprisingly satisfying. I like to think of these turkeys as being comfortable wherever they want to be.

The dentist and wild animals may not be the norm for a heart-warming piece, and that is part of the reason why I love this poem. The idea of home, which is so ingrained in all of us--human and animal--and so important, is portrayed here without being the focus. And then all of the fun language that is crammed in here--most of it is so subtle that one must look for it. I like that. Sometimes, word play can be too blatant (I am not talking here of when it is over the top, which is done for effect, and which I adore) and it takes away from the content.

Another favorite poem!