Saturday, March 15, 2008

a dry retribution

he hears the wind ruffling the pines,
soaring up the mountainside
tossing the chickens over the fence
and into the dog's breakfast.

cock and hen alike had always
clucked cheekily between the roughened boards,
refusing to share even a daily ovum,
quibbling merrily over the the latest bug.

fateful diligence spared them not
and it came to pass, in an instant,
that they were merrily consumed
by all who knew them.

and on and on and on
said she, skipping through the grass
skirts lifting, apron cupped and
running smack into bedlam

where she sees the fine sharp
teeth glinting in the sunlight
with the damply clinging feathers of
gold, and white, and green

she whirls, in the swing of time
upward shrieking in a slice of sky
and the errant muddy fiend's appetite
is gone forever, leaving only a trace

of rheumy fleabitten cowering
faintly shadowed by the fall,
into the ready and vacant dust beside
an angry, sodden puff of red-encrusted white.

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