I got up early
Set off down the road
With Jen and our dogs
Like we do every morning..
Well heading back
Along my path
I could hear
Those Chickens
A sound, nearly
Like a wailing blues
Well I thought of that hen
And a vine I'd passed
The way it hung
Right over the wire
An then just why..
I couldn't shut my mouth?
4 comments:
How the sounds :). Very nice.
this poem must have a personal hidden meaning for you, jen, and the chickens - it will keep me pondering the meaning for some time to come :0)
Hey..thanks for swinging by you guys..
I sense that you live in a type of paradise, sometimes memories of country life call to me; I don't answer that call too often. City slicker I am now. lovely! :)
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