Chicken Little
Much like a messenger to mind,
Posed staring down into my face,
I sensed a rooster, brash and bold,
Was challenging my right to breathe.
Thus, in the inkling of an eye
With onset latent bleariness,
The old conundrum, fight or flight,
Was freshly flashing in my head.
This rooster was no idle threat.
Its size, imposing, filled my sky.
Its comb was cocked...
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