by Haritima Sharma
sunlight on a blade of grass,
rain drops on the top of her head,
the ground below her feet,
dust bathing with her friends,
the chirping of her chicks,
the warmth of her mother’s breast,
the front of her beak,
moving around her legs,
pecking on the ground,
spreading her wings to fly,
perching up on white fences,
foraging in the day,
singing at night,
a world outside of this battery cage.
Haritima Sharma is an aspiring writer from a small town in India. Having recently completed their postgraduate studies, they are found hunting for jobs during the day and writing poetry at night. Refusing to have a dull moment, they also indulge in clay art and chainmail jewelry-making.