Uninvited Guests
Early this morning, I found, much to my chagrin,
the flowers in my garden were as if they’d never been.
Bitten off above the soil, green stubs left aground.
Mad enough to spit nails, I fussed and stomped around.
It was easy to discover who the culprits were.
They left telling evidence indented in the dirt there.
Their hoof prints tracked all around the flowerbed;
no blossoms for my soul today, food in their stomachs instead.
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