The Importance of Eggs
By David McCord
I’ve broken lots of eggs, I guess
The ones in pockets make a mess,
The ones on floors don’t clean up well,
The older ones may leave a smell.
Eggs in a bag when dropped won’t splash,
The thrown egg will–a yellow smash.
Big double handfuls from the nest
Are eggs that break the easiest.
All boiled eggs shatter. You can peel
The pieces off. I like the feel
Of peeled boiled eggs, but like the look
Of eggs we neither break nor cook–
These incubator eggs on trays.
Beyond the glass. Whomever stays
Around to see the chicks peek through.
Their shells at hatching time? I do.
Of all the egg-breakers. Number One.
Is Mister Chick. When he’s begun,
And you can see his little bill
Poke, poke, and figure out how he will
Tune round inside his prison-house,
As nimble as a nibbling mouse
Until he’s back where he began:
You’ll have respect for eggs, young man.
For then one good final kick,
There is no egg, but just a Chick.
Except from David McCord’s One at a Time: His Collected Poems for the Young
