by Sierra

A kid sits in a pile of hay
He’s tied round the neck with twine
His tiny horns hid beneath his fur

Nailed to the side of the mud-brick wall
Is a goat skin hanging to dry
Sunlight peeps through the canopy to heat the hide

In the kitchen, a pot boils over
The meat sizzles in the stew
The aroma of dung and meat drifts out the window

The goat kid tugs and the twine
And tries to reach a nibble of grass
His bony neck stretches out, longing for milk

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