Tag Archives: chickens

Goulburn poultry auction

Rain pelting the tin roof gives a soft-solid background
to hens muttering annoyance and cocks crowing their outrage.
All those birds, five hundred or more,
waiting to be judged, their worth determined,
to be found wanting or wanted. Continue reading

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calling the sun to the sky (pantoum)

I wanted to write a pantoum yesterday for the dVerse prompt “coming full circle“, but between work and kids I just didn’t have the head space for something that long or structured. But with a whole have-to-free day I’ve indulged myself this morning with a second coffee and some writing time. Here is this morning’s attempt, inspired by Laverton’s 0600 reveille: 

The old cock crows.
Stretching his neck up
to start the new day,
he calls the sun to the sky. Continue reading

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grim eaters

Death comes in darkness from below,
with claws and teeth,
snuffling and sneaking,
slipping under the wire, Continue reading

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a henhouse full of roosters

For dVerse’s Haibun Monday: Eagle. Our local apex raptors are wedge-tailed eagles, they stand up to 1.2m tall, have a wingspan more than 2m, and have been known to take lambs and small ‘roos.

My neighbour has the worst luck. Everyone out here keeps chickens, and everyone loses the odd one. But her chooks seem to have a life expectancy of under a week. She’s lost them to foxes (well, haven’t we all?) and to a neighbour’s dog, and the goshawks, and coxy… One time she got some fertile eggs, and hatched them in an incubator. From ten eggs, she got eight roosters. One of the two hens was killed by a fox, so she put the rest of the birds in my coop until she reinforced hers. My Muscovy drake killed the last hen, so I gave her back her roosters. Continue reading

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hawk

This is for Frank’s Haikai challenge #176: Hawk, and also in response to Dwight’s “The King”.  

 Hunger rides the wind,
watching for the flicker of
small life far below. 

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yet more Sunday morning ha’ sonnets

The dawn chorus begins…

Magpie song flows
a clear, bright stream Continue reading

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Fantastic Mr Fox?

Blood flows, feathers fly,dead_chooks
on the ground their bodies lie.
Reynard has come by. Continue reading

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fledgling

At my feet,eagle
an eviscerated hen,
sans head,
intestines spilling out.

Circling above,
breaking the silence,
a fledgling wedgetail
calls to be fed.

This is why my hens are in protective custody. There is a breeding pair of wedgetail eagles nesting just over the ridge…    

Thanks to FV for the trigger to write this – turquoise eternity.    

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protective custody

Constrained
behind concrete and dog wire,
the hens are in
protective custody.

Earthbound,
even their view of the sky
is impeded, criss-crossed and
filtered by mesh.

Safe from the silhouette against blue
wheeling above them,
an incarnation of freedom
and death.

 

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