poetry by j matthew waters

Mama’s Chickens

Mama always sat on the glider
on the front porch, slightly
swinging and knitting away
on a scarf or such,
looking up every now and then
to keep tabs on her chickens.


january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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One thought on “Mama’s Chickens

  1. when i read this poem i will always think of @vivchook

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