24 february 2012
An annoyed plover (Burns Stanza / standard habbie)
Fluttering with a broken wing
or diving with a voice that ring,
like a mad little flying thing
a plover bombards me,
before again it is rising
trying to make me flee
and I am astounded by it
drawing me away bit by bit
or in anger catching a fit
as I near the small nest,
falling down as if it is hit;
to be leaving seems best.
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