Hen Died.
Hen sat very still with shallow breath
She sat all day beside the pile of winter wood
Come dark I lifted her .. put her on gentle straw
Inside the little house
Alone.
.... she did not move
She had a dying dignity.
I talked to her a little, stroked her back
And knew when morning came
That she would be no more.
Hen died..
I placed her on the garden mound
Where hedgehogs sleep
And covered her with autumn leaves
So she might rest in beauty
...and in peace.
I looked at her
My faithful Red.
And wondered where she’d gone
That age old nagging doubt that life is lived
In vain when all is over... done.
Red Hen..will fade away
She will not be remembered...
She has left no song.
I wish her well.
Kristine Byrne 31st Oct. 2012