flashed his shimmering tail
formed a huge arc of green and blue, gold
plunged his turquoise neck
dipping to the dust
a flamenco whirling
castanets snapping at the ladies
hissing and honking
rippling towards them
frothing back
circling
then like a dowager collapsing her tea-fan of ivory
tapping disapproval on the tray
he swept his train of feathers in the dust
“Oh come, my lovelies, aren’t I fine?”
my lovelies
… my loves
x
