a flock of pigeons
mills about in a lazy dance,
pecking and shifting
then explode into
panicked flapping,
as they wheel about,
gaining spontaneous unity,
reaching investigation mode,
they bank heavily,
like a C-130 gunship --
a Puff the Magic Dragon --
pivoting onto a target
In the forest there was a stately, old owl
who intended to go out on the prowl,
but before he vamoosed
his cozy tree roost
he fell asleep, throwing in the towel.