They are gone, all gone.
First two, then all. Our great joy
turns into sorrow.
They are gone, all gone.
First two, then all. Our great joy
turns into sorrow.
Tags:chicken coop, CyranoWriter, dead chicken, Emotional poetry, empty coop, farm life, fresh eggs, haiku, hurting, ImproVerse haiku, Kuhns, poems, poet David Kuhns, Poetic Lament, racoon, revolutionary poetry, rural life, sorrow, weasel, working through issues, www.cyranowriter.com
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