(A caw-tionary tale)

The sun was bouncing
off of the steeple across the river.
Shining onto the snow that was
melting into mud, along the edges
of the path in the park.
Church bells were ringing out
into the morning light,
a bright harmonious hymn of hope
and salvation, for the faithful.

I turned my full face to the bright blue sky,
and spotted a big bird
way up high in a tall tree.
I stopped to watch him working,
there on a heavy branch,
picking and pulling at a small bird,
like so much string,
with his short sharp beak. Ripping and tearing the songbird apart
with his massive talons.

While other birds
screeched and screamed
in other trees.

And I wondered-
had they interceded
when the giant red-tailed one arrived?
Did they want to help the starling?
Had they tried
to save this helpless creature,
or did they hop away, and hide?

Did they sit and watch it all unfold
from their promontory perches
as the predator swooped in,
mostly silent, gliding on the breeze,
barely a whisper in the wind,
as the sleeping starling
was shocked into the moment, awake!
Too stunned to put up a fight.
Too scared to sing.
Outweighed and overpowered.
Snatched up and whisked
away from its family’s tree,
to find itself flying
without even flapping a wing,
and dying in midair…

I couldn’t bear the scene much longer,
and so I began moving onward.
The church bells slowly faded,
but the sound of screeching travelled
from tree to tree to tree to tree,
a wave of caution following me,
an ocean of alarm in the air.

They continued,
still continue, cawing and calling,
signaling and shouting out the warning.
Do they realize it’s too late to save that starling?
Are they wailing in mourning? Afraid of harm?
Are they organizing a coup?
A unified call to arms?

Do they know that they could be next?
They might be tomorrow’s breakfast.