chickens
to Susan Vespoli
there is a place to stroll in my neighborhood
that i think of as the Chicken District
simply because chickens abound
and stroll like i do. once
a lady was leading a troupe of chicks
to safety off the asphalt of Earll Drive
and i called from down the street
“aha! NOW i know why
The Chicken Crossed The Road!” and she laughed
and declared herself the Crazy Chicken Lady.
today was another saunter in the District
but then in a group of four
i saw a specimen with some feathers
that were the strawberry blonde
described by my poet friend Susan V
in her heartstopping poem “Chicken”
that was really about her son
and the processing of her anxiety and grief
about him–
a golden hen magically appeared
and then disappeared
but the reader must decide
if the bird was real
or manifested by a grieving mother
to step down the high voltage
of her helplessness
in watching her son’s life
take its
tragic
turns.
when i saw that strawberry blonde
my friend and her poem magically popped
into my suddenly unlulled thoughts
and it became not a coincidence
but a needed component of life on earth
that Tragic
and Magic
rhyme.
chickens
cross roads
lay eggs
become fricasseed
pick out dough in breadpans
peck and scratch and look askance
and reveal glory and downfall
and the bond
that shared grief
creates.
Afterword: Susan’s poem “Chicken” may be found in her outstanding collection Blame It on the Serpent, available via Amazon.
One with Clay, Image and Text 