In The Coop
This may be my Walden Pond
Wired place of peace that passes even
My own understanding
Why being hemmed in with these beguiling creatures
Is often my preferred place to be
Still and rest among the fowl plummage
This may be my rock
Here among the current flock of nine
I hide and find a reason
To study nature’s brilliant
Rhythm and routine
At Five they will roost
And I’ll be forced to turn back into the world again
The one where fear and pain and joy collide
Outside
This may be my island
My pilgrimmage to solace and relief
I know the neighbors have begun to talk
And question why I go inside
And talk to them, yes I do
(Dolittle did do that too, you must recall)
Naturally, I do not care a ‘tall
Nor worry about world affairs
While I am hiden in full view
inside my beloved coop
Where I will hide only a little longer, in plain view
A refugee fleeing from the headlines
I share the name of those I shelter
With
Joy will come in the morning
Alleluia and amen
I miss my son’s small flock that used to wander our farmyard and roost in the barn…he enjoyed this poem too!