ENTR’ACTE
By Paula Bonnell
The roof pigeon next door flew –
wings clapping - into a tree
(something I’d never before seen it
  do, in all my morning stretches
  on the deck) Then –
Arriving suddenly on the roosting
  corner that the pigeon had left,
pulling its wings in over its back
  with a sullen dignity,
Looking intently over at me, with
  an ancient, fierce face
Thickly beaked - (It must be
  a hawk – )
buff-colored - streaky marks
  in broken lines down its chest
Playing the Bruiser to the
  pigeon’s Small Boy – till -
stepping and turning, it pushed off -
  heading for the tree.
With its cloaky arms spread,
  and its feathered fingers combing
  air, it rose over the tree
and flew south, with the hill dropping away
  beneath it, before veering -
its pale underbody and dark tail
  distinct against a light sky.
Behind it, above it, hectoring toward
  its back came the small form
  of a songbird
as the hawk banked, laboriously
  flapping north.
Exit, pursued by a small bird.
Copyright © 2015 by Paula Bonnell.