One’s basket is simply that,
ne’er more or less.
And when the chook is underfed,
the evidence lies in her nest.
When the chook is underfed
and the eggs are scarc’ly few,
how very easy it is to place
them all in One’s purview.
How easy it becomes
to forget a wider scope
as each solitary egg
becomes One’s lasting hope.
And yet, when ev’ry egg
is but one of a dozen more,
how quickly One’s little basket
becomes a veritable and d’verse store.

© Blake Leitch January 10, 2017