Nestled, tight as crowded shelves-
natures sleeping bookends,
the youngest in flock, coveting,
jockeying for advantage, favor,
for maternal warmth, planted seeds,
the suckled breast, moist, hard,
achieving equal measure, pooled
within swelled, pacifying glands-
as she rations, warms, conciliates
her brusque, née hatchlings with-
assurance they'll be sheltered by
a nights soft sleep by moon-watch.
©2019-All rights reserved
Frank James Ryan Jr. /FjR
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