by Kiki Adams
Spring enables
the release of the chickens
into rivers of grass
which bubble up in crashing waves,
swallowing rocks and ridges
into their soft depths.
The chickens wade, hiking their feet
up high into their skirts to make their way
from island to island, searching for worms
who swim among the flowerbeds.
The hens congregate in clusters
on the shores under the rose bushes
to make small talk and gossip,
probably about the rooster.
They were shy at first
in the face of such freedom,
but now they disturb the songbirds
and bother the bees
who circle like seagulls.
Kiki Adams is fascinated with the structure and patterns of language. She explores these patterns in her professional life as a linguist, but has also been writing poetry since she was a child. She studied linguistics, psychology, and poetry in her hometown at the University of Texas at Austin, and now lives in Montreal, Canada. When not spending time with words, she enjoys lounging in parks, watching sports, and visiting museums.