Ah! Courtesy. Everywhere thine shadow falls
we look up and behold your wingèd shape
of grace - it's a bird it's a plane,
it's Courtesy. No, it is only a bird
that hangs, blotting the sun from one's face
and a rude plop from shadow-hid cloaca
as you stand there, with mouth agape
and wondering in the relative gloom
so perfectly-placed
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