POEM: Iowan Summer

Two mediums duel.

The warbler fences strongly

jabbing and jesting

gambling with the sword held left,

the weaker of two choices.

The roaring fences defensively

stabbing and slicing

aggressing towards wanted valor,

the more malevolent of the pair.

Gently rocking on heels fueled by song,

brashly stomping on soles encouraged by horns,

Right, then left,

shielded cheeks

fertive movements

brought on by fear

of loss.

Limbs turn to wings.

Feet turn to wheels.

Swords clatter to dust on the forest floor

Stalemate is victorious,

as birdsong and man continue to compete.