|As a matter of fact, I like|
a choice of mates, he says.
But - a thousand green eyes?
I hope the predators don't call your bluff.
It seems a risky proposition,
putting all your peafowl eggs
in such a fine and celebrated
It seems that dragging iridescence
in the dirt would hurt your chances
(maybe even cause some
missed she-fowl romances).
Scientists have disagreed on it
of course, they always do but you
do not debate the so-called facts
not now or then or ever, when
a thousand green eyes
shift and smile, shimmering
opened by soft winds.