Stegosaurus from Antiquasauria by Ian Cooke

Across the world the birds arrive to settle.
The late Jurassic conjured me and put me on the slate
to graze and fade and remain within it.

The savannas of ferns that will turn to Colorado,
where I'll one day be named official fossil of the state,
with plates over my spine, doubled and staggered,
making the strangest of all constellations.

Behold the thagomizers at the end of my tail! Quadruple spikes float high behind.
But that's not all we are: a pebble, and a star, and a soul combined.

When predators appear at any hour,
protection of this kind is necessary to survive.
We teach our offspring to pivot and swivel their bodies
to swing what they've got in a fight.

Most of my days are devoid of complication.
The lifestyle of a herbivore is basic bad or good.
Eat, sleep, and defend; self-preservation is the priority.
Travel together.

And don't forget to keep the population up.
Reproduction is a must for dinokind.
But that's not all we are: a pebble, and a star, and a soul combined.

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