My e-Sheaf

One magpie*

One magpie*

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You feel cursed with the title.
I sense your desperation
as you scan over the wires
that connect the telegraph poles
I have haphazardly erected.

In this second stanza of superstitious
sorrow, you feel excited as a blot
unfolds into black, white and blue,
but then disappointment as you watch
the raising of an Estonian flag.

Here is that crowd-pleasing magpie,
with his brother flopping on the floor
with the morning paper. A fourth brings news
that you wont have to waste your money
on a home pregnancy testing kit.

If I give you three more
will you tell me who the father is?


*One for sorrow.
Two for joy.
Three for a letter.
Four for a boy.
Five for silver.
Six for gold.
Seven for a secret never to be told.

ANON.