I'll never forget the morning I learned about the nefarious ways of weasels. I had finished milking cows and was happily making my way to the chicken coup with their feed. I opened the door to deliver breakfast and gather eggs and what met my eyes will be burned in my memory forever. Weasels decapitate and suck the blood from chickens. It's a thing. Look it up. Or don't. Read the poem, you'll get it.
Creative enthusiast, gregarious naturalist, opinionated activist, RYT 200. Amy Kay Czechowicz is completing a poetry challenge for 2018 by posting an original poem daily to this blog!