A Flash of Color

The fresh whiteness
Of new-fallen snow,
Broken only by footprints
And the round shells
Of newly laid eggs.

A gaggle of geese cavorts,
Soon to be parents
Keeping a sharp eye
On the fragile hope
For their future.

Long necks preen gracefully,
And ruffled white feathers
Are smoothed by orange beaks
As orange feet trample
The fresh-fallen snow.

The quiet and peace of domesticity
Are broken by crying trumpets
And flaring wings
Warning of the newcomer,
The intruder.

Their eyes catch the colors first,
Orange, red, purple,
And royal blue
As a peacock struts,
Waving its fan.

The geese can't understand
This flashily colored bird,
Its fan spread behind it,
Its strutting grace,
Its assurance of its beauty.

They have their own grace,
They know this to be sure;
Simplicity and elegance,
Not this loud flash of
Arrogant bright color.

The peacock returns their trumpets
With a single piercing cry
As it comes forward,
Fluttering its fan and
Raising its head high.

The geese part before it,
Bewilderment in their eyes
As the peacock acknowledges
Their admiring eyes with
Another single piercing cry.

The peacock does not stop
As it passes through the crowd
Its fan waving gently
And it gives another cry
As it struts away.

Soon it is gone,
And the geese return
To their old routine,
But with memories of that brief
Flash of color.