Brood

Maggie Devers

The three hens at my daughter’s school

Are oblivious to egg prices

Concerned with lunch scraps

And the stray termite

And their stair perch when the sun dips low

I wonder how they spend evenings and weekends

If they miss the sound of childsong

Or the Sunday scaries set in

I imagine they commune with their comrades

Offer jokes and such for trade

My daughter assures me chickens dislike the mud

And I'm inclined to believe her

More from Maggie Devers ↓

• Read my debut poetry book, For My Daughter
• Follow me on Instagram for more poetry @rembrandts.cure