Literary Vegan: December 2017

Sunday 31 December 2017

New Year's Eve

I won't wait for the Midnight turn

My Christmas candle still burns

And the cats tuck their heads in to curl

Into shapes of sleep framed by fur.

This is the moment I take

Into next year of noise and mistakes

These halycon minutes, now made

By creatures, contented and safe.

I am one of them too

So I pray with silent gratitude

The night crowds will shout loudly soon

But my candle lights up the whole room.

Hatchlings

They do no wrong.

They hatch, they cheep

And start to look around

At scattered egg shells

And matching eyes, set

In hatchling soft, soft, down

That we replicate as fluffy toys

And put their image on sale

As they are killed and thrown as trash

Because they were born male.