Sympathy for my Chickens
Tree cries die beneath the wind
they are planning an attack,
against the man who no longer cares.
I have chickens,
who shut the doors in hopes of hiding their eggs.
They know of my true desire.
For them a December blanket of ice
will lead to their downfall.
I've discovered I don't need
the acres or the land.
The hoards of people, shuffling from behind
like harsh winds keeping barn doors shut.
And I smell the fumes from the street,
the chaos of this city I love.
they are planning an attack,
against the man who no longer cares.
I have chickens,
who shut the doors in hopes of hiding their eggs.
They know of my true desire.
For them a December blanket of ice
will lead to their downfall.
I've discovered I don't need
the acres or the land.
The hoards of people, shuffling from behind
like harsh winds keeping barn doors shut.
And I smell the fumes from the street,
the chaos of this city I love.
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ReplyDeleteI think I mentioned before my favorite line in class which is the line about the chicken closing their doors. For some reason it makes me think about how the chickens feel when they're eggs are taken.
ReplyDeleteI also like the very first section about trees. Man could mean a single person or mankind as a whole and their treatment of nature.
But since I am so bad at poetry I will stop trying to decipher this poem and simply say it is very good and deep...I think.
Arghh, why does this keep coming out in invinsible ink!?