Monday, May 18, 2009


I saw as they led
my children away.
To slaughter.
One by one.
I saw the sharp terror
in the eyes of my daughter.
As the master grabbed her
by the scruff of the neck
with a hand -- skillfull and rough.
He severed her head
and laid it out
in the sun.
To dry.
I chewed on the grass.
Didn't avert my eye
from her still-open eyes --
glossy and dead.
I said:
Daughter-sheep, they are people.
They know not what they do.
Their hearts are crowded
and pity doesn't fit.
So, rest in peace, my daughter.
And may you be blessed
while they eat.

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