Anger
I hear a voice, a male one, coming through
The trees. Excited like a trumpet but
A deeper tone, its beauty like a blue
And gold cock pheasant with a macho strut,
The noise brings fierceness to my ears. I lean
Towards it hoping I will hear its meaning. Men
Have vocal chords that tend to give a sheen
Of raw authority as from a den
Of dragons. This one sportsman’s sound was just
A shout about a game that he and mates
Were playing on the court but still the must
Of maleness weighed in it like armor plates.
..I heard it only once. Perhaps it meant
Nothing much, but it rang with manly scent.