Poor Mother Hen

Thicker still the trees go the farther down the murder row

In dreams roots weep a silent prayer still wondering who's been left up there

Unaware and unprepared in the deep bog they feel agog and the grog descends

Onto the mother hens who snoop and squawk and squint

Not understanding the thoughts of twitching legs and the shells still left in beds

Too soft of ground and no real heat but to hard and the boy begins to shrink

The movie plays never loud or clear but wild and only into the left ear

The plot it thickens and loosens and shrinks and grows

In time his nose will get bigger while his confidence grows smaller

And all the while still getting taller

His mother kissed goodbye

Her tears still flying

And when he returns his legs are taller and his hair is longer

And the sharp golden buttons of his green perfect coat are clean and shining

An embrace of somebody

Or the crumple of a sheet

These women feel no respite.