Subterranean Car Sick Buzzard
Remember the field with the buried car
Front offside wing and section of roof
Protruding from stony mud
You said Perhaps there was a time slip
Been here for centuries
Romans, at a guess
Mr Buzzard dekkos down from forest hide
Peripheral scan over fossil car, no mind
And why doesn't he go for our eyes? I wonder
Well he'd like to, but he'd never think
To try and take them, you say
Not in him. Attack hugely improbable.
But I just saw a Humber buried in a sheepfield
Buzzard loops again
I put on my shades and it begins to rain
poem by Jay D. Allard
Added by Poetry Lover
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