![]() Becoming a HerbivoreA Poem by JenniferMarieMeat to many is a delicacy foie
gras, filet mignon,
Carpaccio, but I can’t help
but to think of the life, that had as much
of a right to live as I do. That had as much
of a family Shielding him
from hostility. Resting together under a
tree in moonlight. What do they
say to each other in their secret
language? How do they
live? Do they have a
joyful life roaming stretching
fields, long blades of
grass full of morning
dew brushing the
base of their legs? All day, behind
wood fences, cars rush by, unaware of them.
Unaware of their
fate, a number, dangling from a single
ear. It is the circle
of life we are taught, A dove can’t
worry about the worm when her chics,
open-mouthed cry. I once saw a
truck in Salamanca with pigs
stacked 3 rows high. they circled the
round about, into the
distance until a tiny dark spot. Even then, I
wondered, did they know they were loved? © 2016 JenniferMarieFeatured Review
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3 Reviews Added on August 15, 2013 Last Updated on August 18, 2016 Author
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