Stayed up revising my poem. Woke up revising my poem. Got it sent in, got great feedback. And, on my morning walk, this meadow web I found brought such delight. Yes, we have a rooster. He sleeps in the low hemlock branches by the front porch. He has a name. Fudgey. Wave wakes, we all wake at his fine crowing. It is Wave who has named his rooster. One of us has checked Nextdoor to see who is missing a rooster. Nobody we can find. I say if we can find a coop for the cold weather, Fudgey can stay. Oh, what am I getting myself into?