Outside a turkey pecks at my lawn

Inside I peck at my keyboard

He looks up startled

I look up startled

Must have been nothing

Must have been nothing

He stares again at the green

I stare again at the white

In front of his beak sits a wattle

In front of mine stands a bottle

I give him the eye, offer a drink

His eye says I must be holding a baster

Then he flaps away with all the grace

Of the Hindenburg