English poetry

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The Bagel

I stopped to pick up the bagel
Rolling away in the wind,
Annoyed with myself
For having dropped it
As if it were a portent.
Faster and faster it rolled,
With me running after it
Bent low, gritting my teeth,
And I found myself doubled over
And rolling down the street
Head over heels, one complete somersault
After another like a bagel
And strangely happy with myself.

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Poem The Bagel - David Ignatow