A falcon swoops and lands in my garden
its sharp talons struggle to gain purchase
on the black plastic water tank. It looks
momentarily confused, perhaps
a song sparrow escaped with all its feathers.
I witness the merlin’s endearing vulnerability
as he perches regally, composed as a cat
that had missed
the mark
Like any considerate host, I act
as if he was expected, and
unwittingly say
that he is welcome to his full of finches.
Oh how quickly I toss my feathered friendships
at the appearance of this intriguing stranger
his dark hood and proud speckled chest,
hooked bill with tomial tooth designed to snap
cervical vertebrae and rip warm flesh . . .
how it suits his handsome face!
The instant our eyes meet
I tumble from the sky
plummet like prey
smitten
but he kills
our conversation by lifting
wings to vanish as fast as he appeared.
The garden is no longer the same
and the finches eye me dubiously.