The peacock is always three steps ahead
With glistening sapphires which capture the eye
While he held white muddled feathers
Which no one seemed to bother
Checking more than two steps behind
Just before where he’d rest
Buried in the shadows
Of the flowering tail-fan which dazzled them all
Blazing eyes stuck on it like tape
He’d always be on the sidelines
Even in the nest
Where mother would always ask
About what happened in the light
And never cared for the shadows
Even as he prayed she would
Care about the boring stories
Of the dove who wouldn’t fly away
Even through all of the shame
Because all watch in wonder
But don’t care where the dove ever flew
As the dove was used and discarded
So he could find validation
In the warmth of other wings
But it’d never suffice since
White feathers only make way for blue
As the shadows only grow
When three steps turn to five
As the dove stretches his wings
But nobody saw beyond the tail
That beauty sometimes was found in the dark
They didn’t see him fly
And they never cared where