The night was coming very fast
It reached the gate as i ran past
The pigeons had gone to the tower of the church
And all the hens were on their perch
Up in the barn,and i thought i heard
A piece of a little purring word
I stopped inside ,waiting and staying
To try to hear what the hens were saying
They were asking something ,that was plain,
Asking it over and over again
One of them moved and turned around
Her feathers made a ruffled sound
A ruffled sound ,like a bushful of birds,
And she said her litle asking words
She pushed her head close into her wing
But nothing answered anything.
-Elizabeth Madox Roberts