Hay

Chewing with my blunt dentures
Gnawing at the first round
Looking down my spotted features
Feeling safe with the farmer’s hound
My cycle is why I’m here
For the second coming of hay I wait
The sun shines bright but fair
Night comes when they close the gate
I like when they check on us weekly
Purpose is a wondrous thing
It makes me feel loved and lovely
They said they found in me something
Was out in the quarantine zone
Waiting for the end to come
I wonder whether I will be stripped to the bone
Or if my final resting spot will be home

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