Elegy for a Roast

A chicken frowns in the oven
at Mom, Dad and kids
sitting down round the table
praying for grace.

The hen mourns headless
through the grease-spattered pane,
her three chicks
molting, stuffed in a cage,
her mate rendered tallow
and feathering beds.

Outside the inferno,
eight white hands join
cleansed of her blood
while she broods over loss
and stews in regret.

Scott Speck
10/18/99