Saturday, September 20, 2008

Free Range

The rooster struts
The sun gleams on his proud plumage
He holds his shimmering tail feathers high
For his hens trail closely behind
His dances lures them
And he croons rythmically as they lie at his breast
As one they roll in the dust
Cooling themselves from the days heat
They search for morsels
Finding tasty grub
They are content
For they are not as other chickens
They have never known what it is liked to be caged
Wallowing in the misery of their own waste
With no room to move about
For these birds are-
FREE!

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