The Tin Whistle Menagerie

Something screamed past me today.

It’s deafening cry drowning out the petty goings on
Of some middle-of-the day-street.

My head was down,
And didn’t see it rushing past,

But it’s thundering bellow pried my ears wide open.

As the howl rolled into the distance,
Where it would surely become the ire of some poor’s soul,
I thought of what I ate for breakfast.

And found that a little odd…