The three hens at my daughter’s school
Are oblivious to egg prices
Concerned with lunch scraps
And the stray termite
And their stair perch when the sun dips low
I wonder how they spend evenings and weekends
If they miss the sound of childsong
Or the Sunday scaries set in
I imagine they commune with their comrades
Offer jokes and such for trade
My daughter assures me chickens dislike the mud
And I'm inclined to believe her
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