Next doors’ grass had greened <br />and the honeyed light of autumn <br />spread thickly over thirsty trees <br />not quite ready to turn. <br /> <br />I heard her ugly honking. <br />Incongruous really, <br />considering the feathered charm <br />and pert uprightness <br />of her maternity. <br /> <br />Her four new chicks <br />were cute and ping-pong light - <br />their day old voices peeping, <br />their yellow legs a-creeping <br />like ants around her. <br /> <br />Next day she honked again - <br />but alas, I was too late! <br />My canine scavenger <br />was sunning herself <br />guiltily on the back step - <br />a mouthful of feathers <br />palpable evidence of her crime. <br /> <br />Miss P honked again <br />and strode aggressively up the drive. <br />Her sole surviving chick <br />scuttled after her. <br /> <br />A few days later <br />I heard her honking sadly. <br />This time she walked alone.<br /><br />Alison Cassidy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-guilty-secret/
