Rooster in Evening’s Golden Light

Rooster and I
are still not
on friendly terms.
I always keep my eye out for him,
as I think he does
for me.
I carry a water jug
some of the time,
but now that he’s out of the barn
and grazing in the alpaca and goat pens,
I don’t always have the jug
when I’m around him.
About once a week
he rushes me,
in that wiggle-waggle way,
at his top-speed.
If I have water in hand,
he gets a splash,
or several.
If not, I have to turn toward him
and point my finger
and firmly tell him to stop—
then I get the water
and splash him.
That settles things
for several days.
He doesn’t treat any other humans
like this,
though the hens, of course,
and the guineas
often get chased.
Despite his mysterious issues with me,
I am increasingly astounded
by his beauty
as he’s grown into
his full-blown roosterhood.
Perhaps his keeping a close eye on me
allowed me the moment I needed
to capture his handsomeness
one evening during the golden hour.