Orphaned Chick Requiem
Who will sooth her nerves, earning fleeting trust,
as ruffled feathers make for flavor-spoil?
Who will preen her feathers through broken wings,
mending her tender meat before the broil?
Who will have steady, firm, gentle, calm hands
that know their way around a butcher’s block?
Who will feed her rich seeds sowed in kindness
hiding his axe as it strikes without shock?
Who will weep for the guileless young birdie,
who, through no fault of her own grew alone?
Who now wanders our woods, an unmoored ghost
haunted by a love she has never known?
Who will weep for this girl, led far astray
who strays from divine feminine to prey?
Consider this my NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo tune-up.