That day,
The day of the appeal,
The two secretaries
Kept after five,
The chief officers
In their place, their staff,
So many,
I had not thought
So many,
Each stern stare
A drawn bow.

And this, before,
A bird struck
Suddenly by a car,
Knocked sideways
And flung twisting,
In its agony thrashing
And hobbling upon the road,
Not believing itself,
This stony air,
Flying desperately
Still on one wing.


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