I was driving down the road,
Passing beneath a stop light,
When I looked to my right
And noticed an odd scene.
A man stood in his yard,
Next to his lawn mower
Holding, what seemed to be,
A dead bird in his hand.
His head hung low,
As if broadcasting the sorrow
He felt in the death of
Such a helpless creature.
O man! O Free Man!
Whether or not that bird
Died of those spinning blades
Because he was busy feasting,
You did the only thing you could.
Man! whether or not that bird
Fell from a limb, disabled from
Flight by the sweeping flight
Of disease,
You did the only thing you would.
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