Hen House Considerations
In hen house light there shines a single beam.
I sleep walk--not so sure this is a dream.
I hear the soft, low clucking that is
sound of meditating chickens in this
den of peaceful souls. They, themselves,
produce a product counted by the twelves,
each egg laid in the hay with gentle ease.
And now I steal within the dawn to please
my appetite for scrambled eggs, a scone
and coffee as I read the news alone
at breakfast table, gazing at the field.
I'm grateful for the hens, their daily yield.
When thinking of the hens I think I should
provide, perhaps, some music for their good.
(Prev. Self-Published)
Copyright © Carol Louise Moon | Year Posted 2023
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