Field Notes: Sonnets of the Little Egg


 Dear little egg, you come from my friend Scott
You are blue-ish green, small and round
A small crack in you I recently found
From the grocery store you were not bought

 Your mother was a chicken of sorts
and she lived in a Minneapolis yard
To lose her little baby egg would be hard
yet, chicken's have no rights in courts
 

So you sit in my cool re-frig-er-ator
amid the butter and cheese
But I shan't eat you, I don't tease
you're too lovely so you'll stay in the door

Dear little egg, thank you so much for your close up
and now 'tis best if I just shut up


oh dear.... that was terrible, but I hope you liked it :)