A Silvery Fish
A seagull flew by
With a fish in its beak,
A sight which, to others,
Might not be unique.
But here by the river,
Where I sit a bunch,
I never have witnessed
A gull with its lunch.
That silvery fish
Was, just moments ago,
Swimming, quite unaware,
In the waters below.
Never thinking its life
Would be ending today
In the gut of a gull,
Not the pleasantest way.
In Manhattan there always
Is room for surprise
For you never know what
Will pass right by your eyes.
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