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AI-generated graphic by NightCafé for The New Verse News. |
a feast of treats
focused on the corpse
of a large dead bird
who's been gutted, re-filled, roasted.
No thanks there.
Meanwhile, fleet-footed deer
frantic and fearful,
run for dear life
across roads, across farms,
through woods,
without their normal caution,
sometimes tricked and tempted,
stilled long enough to be killed
by a human with a gun.
Or a car with blinding lights.
So much beauty to be grateful for,
so much thriving diverse life to be part of,
yet we offer up gratitude for the deaths
of fellow creatures who might, like us,
be thankful just to be alive.
Soon we segue to Peace on Earth,
greeting card words that aren't for real.
Not while our hearts and minds,
right here, right now, right at home,
every day, every holiday,
accept violence and killing as normal,
as celebration,
as having no season.
Author’s note: There are environments too harsh, and/or humans too poor, to sustain a non-violent diet. They may need to hunt or fish or farm a couple of domestic animals in order to survive. This poem is not for them.
Alessandra Foster - lifelong and long-lived reader and writer of poetry. Forty-three year vegan. Published: The New Verse News, Literary Veganism, Verse-Virtual, Moss Piglet, Rat's Ass Review.
