Early times on given days
I crow inside the coop
Slowly checking overtime
Just dealing with the poop
Corn fed packs of heart attacks
Clucking set to wild
Sleep until they feather up
Then unwinds each child
Some eggs rise to rumble
From the nightshades of their wars
Some rise slowly raking
To the simplest of their chores
Scratching for a future clear
Plucking at some eyes
Ranging round their feeding ground
Dodging ducks and flys
All the senior mommas run
To the crow of their own clocks
Lesser birds are shooed away
Far beyond the cocks
Some eggs will be cracking
Be they soft or hard inside
Each must face the morning
Til they break to stroll outside
Intercession only
In each flying feathered fact
When hen clucking turns to squawking
When hen peace turns to attack
I stand tall for the place I stand
In this paradise for pickin'
Think of me coop rooster
Master mentor to the chicken
-Hermit King-
