My Neighbor's Chickens
by Shelia Parker Nelson
Every afternoon, they cross the road a'runnin'.
The neighbor's four chickens to my yard are comin'.
They cluck to one another as they peck and they scratch,
about the ants and the chiggers and the ticks that they catch.
Takin' their time, to my back yard they walk,
where one finds a ladybug and lets out a squawk.
Three run towards her, in their awkward gait,
curious as to what the other found and ate.
They soon forget it happened, for you know what they say,
Chickens wake up in a brand new world each day.
It's almost time to roost, the sun is nearly gone.
Time for the four chickens t' head back t' home.
At the roads edge they freeze, confusion they're displayin'.
"How did we get over here?" they seem to be a'sayin'.
Across the road they go, a'runnin' as fast as they can.
They sleep all night, wake up early, and do it all over again.
One says to the others "Where shall we go today?"
The others say "Across the road, we've never been that way."
Happy Thanksgiving everybody!