Rooster

The sun spills out at the cry

Scratching the earth

Making a mark

The ground, a home, a battlefield

And afactory

The sacrifice in hard shells,

then boiled or beaten

All the while, daytimeroiling

Dancing in the sunshine,

Satisfied with the day’s work

Until,the scream is cut in half

With fancy silverware.

As here,feathers lie strewn

The shrill alarm risesfrom elsewhere.