Listen to Laura Swift read her poem “Silage Time.” https://www.themilkhouse.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/MyRec_0526_1219.mp3 Silage Time They looked so snug All four bundled together Fitting into each other Like a feathered jig saw puzzle. Tiny yellow beaks, not squawking now. I could see that their bellies were full. Thin fragile skin stretched around A frame of tiny wish bones. They were almost perfect. You could barely see the mark Where the soft tractor tyre had rolled Over their universe. Find out more...
