The pines spread their arms to greet the sky and shelter where the wandering rooster met its fate by predators.
Scattered fire and black coal feathers attest to his once proud glory, and the wind sighs as if to say it is sorry.
The sheep tread together: mother with grown daughter and son wether, while the ram and older brother graze in fields, now kept separate
No chickens cluck, nor ducks quack wading in their pond water. But, the ravens’ children have grown, having dined on eggs smuggled.
Somewhere, opossums waddle free in relocated reveries as they grow and expand under cover.
Spring will be reborn, and though the heart is torn, someone new will garden where we had nurtured.
Thankful are my tears to bid farewell to fears and the land which cared for us, as an understanding mother.
Candid Corvid Productions 