Penelope and the turkey

A pet turkey who falls out of his cart —
actually, it was a red wagon —
while traveling through a major city,
it was Salt Lake, bigger than a town,
at the moment of the gathering.
I am sure his young owner is desolate,
her name was Penelope, and she cried for three hours.

Fortunately he wasn't dead, his wings not yet clipped.
I say this because he was able to defend himself
sort of…
But, there were stray dogs and cats…
The worst was the skunk.
In a city?
Yep.

The turkey, scared by four-legged noise,
he ran quick. Flapped those wings,
but he didn't take off. Did I mention his name was Bill?
Ran up to a hill, called Prayer Top,
and gobbled for an hour, top of his lungs.
Perfect place for a miracle.

Penelope had complained to the fire department,
Intelligent girls of seven will go to high places later in life.
They came, the fire-engine red truck, that is,
sirens blaring, upon the distant hilltop,
though how they heard a mere gobbling is still a mystery…
The important detail is that they found him.
Smelled awful. Skunk got him.
Penelope held her nose.

Went to the salt factory at that Lake City place.
Does wonders for lingering defensive odors.
Properly aired out, they went home,
in the red wagon, ate ham for dinner,
canceled Thanksgiving celebrations,
and taught Bill how to fly.
Just in case.

He has his own feather bed now in the garage.
Turned out he was a she, the first eggs proved that.
Better than the golden goose.



Penelope and the turkey
12 november, 2006
[2006.12.11…m]
Daily winner of the Writer's Cramp