June 23, 2011
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Stacks of hay, piled from floor.
Dawn breaks through window,
gleaming brightly as twinkling stars.
Apples golden at daybreak.
Heads of horses lined by rows,
all munching peacefully.
As hours pass by,
flies swarm the humid air.
The day, lazily sifting by.

Outside, horses played in pens.
Men were children.
Whereas, on the hay,
there lay still and immoble,
Lennie's pup.
Burried midway under heaps of piled straw.
Blank expressions.
Motionless life.
Dawn never came.

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