LatinosUSA

The last thirty seconds of the pigeon’s squirming,

the hawk holding it down with its claws, and as soon

as there is no movement below, the hawk starts tearing

away the feathers with its beak.

I watch in complete fascination, while at the same time

I feel sad and knotted in my stomach, wondering how much

the pigeon suffered before the end.

I want to call my wife, but as she’s a nurse, already at work,

and not needing to hear of such things, I decide to call

a friend who responds, “Isn’t that just the way nature works!

Just be thankful you’re not a pigeon out there in a cruel world!”

And for a moment I am. But only for a moment. . .