A while back I ran a press release on a poetry contest for children to write poems about their pets. I have children and they have pets, I thought, this could be a perfect fit for our family.
But try as I might, not one child was interested in writing a poem about our dogs, or our (now deceased) cats, hermit crabs, hamsters, gerbils, goldfish, or even our Siamese fighting fish.
They didn’t even want to write a poem about our lovely chickens.
“Come on mom, no one is going to want to read a poem about a bunch of chickens.”
I’ll show them, I thought as I sat down, pen in hand, blank page in front of me and contemplated on what it was about our chickens that was so beautiful, so joyful, so entertaining.
I did end up writing a poem about our chickens and when I submitted it to our town library poetry contest, it won Second Place in the adult division.
Imagine that, I guess someone did want to read a poem about a bunch of chickens after all.
Releasing the Day
Rousted from lazy sleep by the cock-cock-crowing of the rooster
I don my night dried boots
Pulling worn wool sweater over chilled shoulders
To tend the flock
His pretty girls
My charges whom I protect as ardently as he
Heavily expectant and waiting for click of lock
Releases the feathered fireworks from roost to morning light
They are joyous to be freed
Joyous to feel the sun
They are joyous
A silent prayer of thanks is sent through angled wire fencing
Another night without disruption
Another dawn where not a soul is lost
All is where we should be
With grain spilled on ground
And water at the ready
I step back to watch them cluck
As they begin their day
And I mine