Carmina Coombs, With a dramatic flourish Swept the back of her hand To her forehead In a groaning lament...nearly in tears... Since a sudden gust of wind Blew her straw pillbox hat Into a street puddle, Where it floated like half a walnut shell. But worse, a bird with a recycler's eye And a tight talon's grip swooped in And flew it to a tree, Knowing that Darwin would surely applaud Its use to insure the comfort of the species... Better than the useless waste of it Perched on Carmina's head.