The Chickens' Charge
the egg bucket hangs,
collecting our daily gifts.
Speckled, blue to light green,
brown;
medium, large.
I sigh, I smile,
I breathe content:
I am the chicken's charge.
Random thoughts
Recently I had my son install some foam board insulation under the flooring of my mudroom which has been at one time part of the porch outside of the kitchen door. You see, we expanded the kitchen by tearing out the partition that separated it from the small mud room and pantry making for one large entry way in which you could take off your boots and hang your coat. He tore this picture away from the poorly insulated wall. It is from a 1914 newspaper. It is Winston Churchill. The headlines tell of the allied victories taking place in France against the German war machine. Of course this made me think of my father's involvement and eventual p.o.w. status during the second world war. Do we ever stop killing each other and fighting for one cause or one country against another? The answer is, "No." Then I thought of this story from an old Taoist sage; It seems there was a man who came upon a "stinktree" on his property. Looking up to its tangle of leaves and branche...
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