Brood Maggie Devers The three hens at my daughter’s schoolAre oblivious to egg pricesConcerned with lunch scrapsAnd the stray termiteAnd their stair perch when the sun dips low
I wonder how they spend evenings and weekends If they miss the sound of childsongOr the Sunday scaries set in
I imagine they commune with their comradesOffer jokes and such for tradeMy daughter assures me chickens dislike the mud And I'm inclined to believe her

More from Maggie Devers ↓

• Read my debut poetry book, For My Daughter
• Follow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure

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