poem

 BirdA bird got into the houseDon ’t ask me what kindCall it a wrenIt was my fault. Left the sliding glassDoor open while the dog pissedNow it flutters around fromRoom to room presumablyGetting hungrier and hungrier By the hour It ’s an omenOf big changeEither you ' re falling in loveOr someone is about to die I ’ve combed the house Looking for the starling.Someone is runningOut of time10/3/23

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - October 3, 2023 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs