No Ferlinghetti, this morn...only roosters' wake up call!

Me no Ferlinghetti...
Not that kind of force
Or power i do possess
To cause people to stand up straight...
To paint horrific
Blasted trees...
On a heath...
To show cadavers and carnivores...
Or
Imagination of disaster...

Nope...

That kinda courage
i can never muster...

But...
Are there not roosters?
Do they not call?
On a morn
Like this...
When the cool breeze
On lips freckled plant kiss?

Strange license plates
Fitted at front
And rear
Cars could always fly
Down the heath...

But...

Are there no cocks and hens?
Do they not in your country side dance and hop
And play with grains?