orbs in hen-house
poop on deck
fart’s sulphur
soil darkens
worms emerge
chickens dance
sullen air
electric hum
silence
wood-beetle hides
layers of grass
hen pecks through
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Wordflower 
A sort of circle of life and who knew it started with poop?
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That first stanza made me laugh, Catherin! I must keep my sense of humor in low, dark, places.
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