It was a he, for his voice was full, and he came to me
and said, “Do wrong, and you will suffer.
Do right, and you will also suffer, but in a different way.”
I did not want to talk with an oversized bird
but there he was occupying the extra chair in my study.
He smelled bad, too, and there was a distinct menace
in the open knives of his beak.
“Explain it to me,” I said, to humor him.
“Adjust,” he answered, as he adjusted himself, dankly.
“Adjust your plans.”
This turns out to be good advice, and I commend it to you
as meanwhile I have kept the window open in all weathers
to air the room and in the hope that eventually he will leave.