Sense Sonnet - Acher

 The Sorry Arrow

As I flew through the air, I spied

Flying at me was an arrow,

A grave danger from which birds died,

And so a dive did this sparrow,

And this threat flew on harmlessly.

I watched it till it till flew into

The trunk of a giant oak tree.

I was curious, so I flew

Down and perched on the arrow shaft.

The arrow, stuck and feeling sad,

Cried lots while the oak tree just laughed.

The arrow had not made it mad.

I left, blaming the arrow not,

Not the arrow's fault it was shot.