Fowl Fight Poem by Ima Ryma

Fowl Fight



Leisurely, I was walking back
To the house. I'd picked up the mail.
With no warning, came the attack.
A big black bird was on my tail.
The mail scattered this way and that,
As the bird's first dive hit my hand.
The next dive, the bird got my hat.
Should I retreat or should I stand?
I chose to fight another day,
And made a mad dash for the door.
The bird crowed loud as if to say,
'Run. Hide. You coward to the core.'

In one last show of scorn and wrath,
It took a dump. I took a bath.

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