Reacting to the echo of Mary’s wrath, my mind swore:
‘It was you who murdered our bluebird of happiness.’
Just then, our black cat sauntered through the open door,
Where Mary had left only a moment before;
Then came a blue-jay, winging to where I cannot guess.
The nimble feline sprang straight up, six feet,
To snag the wayward bird by its shocked throat.
I reached to grab the cat as she alit so fleet,
But she rebounded out the door with her treat,
Adjuring me appraise the words God had just spoke.
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