NATURE Poem: The Coop, by Kolb Sun

I bet I have more friends than you
hiding behind the house
there they fan their fluffy harmless feathers
passive stares and welcoming clucks
adorned with the warmth of autumn leaves and
a lonely sunset

the ground was riddled with droppings
with the precision of a minefield
hopelessly intimidating to intruders
but never for me

In that Arcadian corral
of half-eaten lettuce and dim catatonic lightbulbs
Primal wasteland
of plastic buckets and steel sheets

I take note of their lives
ones who get too close to the dog
ones we eat for festivities
ones we replace when the salesman comes with his wagon
I can confide with them
not that there is much to confide about

the other village kids would never bother me
there I rotted in recluse
no secrets no acts no fantasies no tragedies
in compensation
like the floral blankets draped over the sheltered nests
hiding their jagged fragility