The Connections Poem by Romella Kitchens

I keep thinking about the chicken loving
eggs she laid so, waiting for the eggs to
hatch and become chicks.

How she must mourn their being taken
from under her, how she must have still
mourned once slaughtered herself,
prepared then served, her soul weeping
in your body.
So, now you cry here and there due to
some lost thread you can not explain or regain,
some why you have denied or never been able
to understand.