In the morning all that’s left
is a clutch of feathers
by the watertank,
another by the front gate
and one more on the verge.
The door of the chookshed
stands open, the lock unfixed
for more than six months, the
makeshift prop of a railway
sleeper lying where I left it,
an unspoken accusation.
I quietly collect yesterday’s
eggs from the laying box,
apologise to the empty yard
and head back inside.
35.0: OZ-KO (ENVOY)
Poetry Editor David PraterReleased April 2011
Contributor Notes
OZ-KO (ENVOY) is the first part of Cordite's special thirty-fifth issue showcasing contemporary poets from Australia and the Republic of Korea in an unique bi-lingual exchange.
How do you tell the predator from the prey? I can identify with this one, living in ‘Chookernup’, as I do, and having been guilty subject to the carnage of invading foxes, eagles, hawks and crows. I prefer the latter, still.
Chookernup sounds like one or two of the towns i grew up in …
So melancholy in mood. Poor chooks.