Today I looked outside the glass
The chickens were huddled together
I could not grasp or understand
Why they stayed out in the weather
The arctic winds blew harsh and cold
The grass and trees were swaying
The stubborn chickens refused to go
Inside their coop and start laying
If this is how it’s going to be
If this is all that they are able
Then without any sadness or sorrow
We’ll have to serve them at our table
a pinch of homestead 