Flight Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Pardon me said the goose to the chicken,
I did mean no affront nor offense,
though the plot bubbled up, then to thicken
and the mood in the barnyard was tense.

It is known what the goose intimated,
that the chicken made eyes to her man.
As she stood at the crossroads and waited
while the hen had been gobbling bran.

Yet the rooster, his comb full of crimson,
had his eye on a bird in the sky,
gave a wave to the farmer named Simpson
and his song was a final good-bye.



For the hen who could not dream.