Chicken Coop

Three Poems by Laura Grace Weldon

Walking In The Dark Specialist appointments don’t wait for chickens to wake, so I walk to the coop before dawn flashlight swinging in time to the bucket handle’s creak. Of course I sing to that rhythm, even if nocturnal creatures wonder at a shadow carrying creak and song with a star in her hand.   Farm Accident for my father’s cousin, who died this way Up before dawn since you could dress yourself, you knew every step of haying, harvesting,...

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