SEPTEMBER CHILL.

A BOY AND HIS UNCLE AND THE CHICKEN.

Uncle brings in the dead chicken by

The neck and begins plucking out the

Feathers with a skill that fascinates

Your 10 year old eyes and as you stand

And watch the chicken gradually becomes

Nude and some how not so grand not so

Chicken-like and then Uncle cuts off the

Head and throws it a side and then guts

It and washes it through with water and

Then puts it down on a large plate where

It lays in a solemn silence without fanfare

Or hymns or prayers just Uncle lighting up

A cigarette and you staring at the chicken

Clean and pure and still and from the open

Window a cool evening late September chill.