It was late last night when the pigs entered the shed
Every gun was slowly trotted off and hidden away
And the sheep finally cut free from the fence that fenced them
They followed one another over to where the light had just gone out
They all studied the piles of weapons and shivered with thought.
They were silent in their manoeuvre except for the lowing of a signal
The cattle swished air rifles with their tails, quietly splashing them into the river
And the horses trampled the knives so that they resembled nothing
This happened at the same time all over the world
In every major city, tiny town and unknown village.
By the morning the animals had gathered at all doorsteps and yards
They were calm in their minds but shook with confrontation
Without a sound they want to reclaim their lives and silently call for respect
Within a minute the trees stood still and the breeze disappeared
And the flies were the only noise to be heard for miles around.
Now there stood man with no natural defence except for his hands
Confused, whimpering, pleading and careful with his words
Just how could he justify all the years of pain and humiliation?
On one knee, then falling onto two- he crawled and lined up on parade
And then a hoof pulled the trigger with the help of a wing
Now on the land everything was king.
© 2007 Steven Pottle