Robotic motions don't extend to tender arches.
They still must stretch slowly and bend softly.
Placing their feet on the dry, decaying ground
that threatens to disclose their covered locations.
The cold mornings have found many admirers
barely exhaling frost from their condensing breath.
They've traveled with the dawn to simply wait
to watch her step forward into the open field.
Away from fallen feathers tangled in branches.
Exposed in full glory from crown to toe.
To pass hours watching her stand as she wonders
what desire would make one look in her eyes for hours
only to smile as they prepare to leave in the twilight.