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Poem

A red tail hawk perches on the rooftop of my adjacent building,
watching the activity at my window where I feed my local pigeons,
but not one pigeon will the hawk kill, 
while they are feeding at my window sill.
The hawk waits until they all leave, 
to relax perched in surrounding trees,
and then gliding high up above, very still, very silently
the hawk dives into the branches of one of the surrounding trees,
then emerges moments after from the branch's leaves.
The hawk has made its pigeon kill successfully.
The hawk flies off to find somewhere to eat in peace,
but is marauded by a murder of crows suddenly.
The crows harass the hawk, tormenting it relentlessly,
until the dead pigeon locked in its talons gets released.
The crows chase the hawk off and all share in the feast
of the hawk's prey that the hawk never got a chance to eat.
Outside my window this kind of drama will often play,
nearly every single living day.

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