Bird Flu (Poem)

not the close quarters at the bar

the small confinement of the car

not the dinner crowd shoppers in a rush

no I know it happened thus

when I ventured outside the basement door

alone in the vastness of the cold morning air

overhead there flew one lone crow

black with a screech and a definite sly mien

who dropped a virus right into my path

my gifts were unacceptable it seems

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