Short Chattery Poems

But why is she knitting a nest? We asked each other.
We knew the old bird was too old to become a mother.
The bird sat quietly with knitting needles clicking away.
She liked it when she confused us on a rainy Tuesday.

It was really a scarf, but she said nest to get us talking.
We are a chattery bunch, and soon were squawking.
Arguments ensued, and hens began pecking each other.
She snickered to herself, and so did rooster, her brother....

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