We keep our new baby in a box
pierced with holes.
The fresh-musty smell, familiar
to kittens, puppies and poults
wafts out when we lift the lid,
tinged with the sickly scent of fresh-cut grass.
Curled up in the grassy whorl within, he lies.
We pipette drops of milk into his mouth
through a straw, and bury him
on the compost heap a day later.